tmw test
by Hankton
Summary: narration test
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I had led a pretty dull life back on earth. I was just your average everyday high school student. I did have my own problems and difficulties, but it was never something to cry over.

I use to go to school just so that I could get my high school diploma and I was an average student when it came to school. It was not that I was not smart, heck my IQ was at 127 when my dad made me take it. It was just that school did not grab my attention.

Now that I think about it right now, that is how my life was, boring! And with nothing to grab my attention. All I did was go through the process of living until I died one day. Even that was not attention-grabbing! I did not die saving anyone, or to some evil plot, all that happened was that I passed away in my sleep one day.

Now here I am, in complete empty, silent darkness, and I cannot move or even feel my body at all for that matter. All I could do is just think as I drift along in this place of nothingness.

So, this is it, all it comes down to when you die is nothingness. Well dang, even the afterlife is boring as hell. Seriously, I would have been in high spirits for some trip into Hell because I am sure I did think about killing off my bitch of a step-mom, plenty of times.

I sighed to myself. I just wished my life was a bit more magical.

I guess all that is left to do is to go to rest, an eternal sleep. I say to myself as I started to drift off to sleep. Then all of a sudden, it seemed like my wish was denied since I was grabbed by a gigantic flaming hand that appeared out of nowhere and it throws me far, far, away.

I woke up again to a blinding light. This time I could sure as hell feel my body, since I got smacked on the ass and let out a yelp of pain. I stared daggers at the person who slapped me across the ass.

"Congratulations Mrs Lovegood, it is a healthy boy!" The woman who smacked said, as she handed me over to a beautiful woman with luxurious golden hair, and silver eyes that would twinkle in the light, if you looked at them closely. She seemed to be very pale and sickly. But all the same, she smiled brightly as she held me in her arms.

"Thank you, healer," the woman who seems to be my mother replied.

"I shall get you some potions, deary. So that you will be able to move about. Oh, should I let your husband in? He seems to be pacing around nervously outside." the healer asks my mother.

"Yes, please let him in, and thank you again." My mother said, and the healer ran along.

A man stepped inside after the healer left, who had shoulder-length dirty blond hair and looked to be slightly cross-eyed. He was dressed in a caramel colored suit, with a funny colored suit tissue folding.

"Xenophilius come. See our son!" My mother said to the man, who must be my father. He quickly comes over to the bed, and my mother hands me over to him.

My father looks at me, and you can feel the happiness oozing off of him.

"Okay give him back to me," my mother says immediately to my father.

"But I barely held him," my father complained to her.

"Hem, are you fighting with me, for my son?" My mother asks him with her eyebrows raised.

"No, no... here you go," my father says shakily.

That got a good laugh out of me, and my father looks at me like I throw away all his face away. My mother also laughed, and my father gives me back to my mother.

My mother brings me closer to her chest and looks lovely at me with a bright smile on her tired face.

It feels nice to have parents who love me, in my past life I had a nasty step-mom and a foolish old man for a father, who didn't even give me a moment out of his life.

"You have the same eyes as your mammy, huh? They look like that they are fullied with intelligence and so clear just like the bright blue sky. Muh, you know what! That is what I am going to name you, Caelum. It means sky in Latin," my mother said.

"Good naming my dear," my father said from the side lines.

My mother says, "Of course it is, and I will be naming all the other children we have."

My father vigorously nods his head. I see now who is in charge of the house.

At that moment the healer comes back in with some flasks with different colored liquid inside.

"Here you go dear, just drink these and you can rest, and tomorrow you shall be released." The healer said that all in a breeze, she gives my mother the potions to drink.

"I should run along, I need to get back to work on the Quibbler. I will pick up the both of you tomorrow morning, how does that sound dear?" My father asks.

"Yes, run along honey. I shall see you tomorrow," my mother said sleepily as her eyes started to drop.

My father headed out, then the healer took me away from my now sleeping mother and put me into a crib right next to her. The healer made sure to leave silently and closes the door, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

I cannot believe it, I am in the harry potter universe, but how? Was it because I wished my life was magical and that being sent to this universe. But how could I end up in a fictional world of a book? Is the Multiverse theory true or is this just an illusion? You know what, fuck that, here I am, part of the wizarding world. Why the hell am I thinking about stupid things, I get to studying magic! Finally, I can have a life that is not BORING!

And forget my past life, it was shitty as hell, and there was no one I cared about in it. So I am now CAELUM LOVEGOOD!

But first, before I shake up this world up, let's go to sleep.

For the first time ever, Dus... no Caelum felt alive.

I woke up feeling like I would fly away from whoever was holding me.

I looked around where I was, I was being held by my mother in seats that are apparently not bolted.

"We have arrived at Ottery St Catchpole," said the conductor at the front. My parents quickly got up from their seat, and they seem to run off the bus. That is when I knew we were on the knight bus, I have no idea how somebody did not die on this bus yet.

"Have a good day Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood and be careful of those death eaters." says the conductor, my parents are already rushing down the steps of the bus and do not reply back to him.

After we get off the knight bus, it zoomed away. "I told you we should have done side-along-apparition instead of taking that damnable bus." My father said as he looked off into the distance of where the bus went.

"There is no way we are doing that I am not going to have my baby splinched." My mother said irritated, it seems like they already had this argument before.

My father waved his hands in surrender when he saw my mother's temper increasing. We walked home, I have to say it is a weird shaped home, but this is where I will be spending my life for now on. Our house is shaped like a rook, and it is hidden amongst the hills and surrounded by gardens with what I think are magical plants.

C 2

We entered into the house that I will be living in for the foreseeable future. My mother sat me down and fed me milk, changed my diapers, put me in my crib.

I have to say I did feel ashamed but having a new magical life over weights all the humiliation.

I stayed in my bed for quite the while and felt bored so then I tried to move myself, but my baby muscles and bone do not seem up to the task.

I sighed to myself, it seems like I am not going to get started on magic right away.

I think to myself, what can I do. Then I think about all those wuxia novels I read and the first thing you have to do on your cultivation journey is meditate.

I have to say I feel quite gleeful of my intellect and at that moment, reading all those books felt like it was not a waste of time.

I got comfortable in my blanket and closed my eyes, my goal is to first sense the magic in me and around me, then my second goal is to control the magic in me and around me, after that we will see what we can do after that.

I spent the next few weeks trying to clear my head and hoping I have a sudden epiphany and that I will be able to see the mana in me and in nature but clearing my mind for a few minutes is a real challenge!

So far, all I have to show for my efforts is that I have only been able to clear my mind for 40 minutes, then I would doze off to sleep, stupid baby body, that is the second challenge, I have to sleep for hours upon hours, so that means I cannot get much done.

Besides that, I had a pleasant surprise when Mrs. Weasley came to congratulate my mother for a successful delivery. I had totally forgotten we live near the Weasley family and I have to say I really did like Mrs. Weasley, when I was reading the books, she was how I secretly imagined my mom would have been like if she was alive, when I read the books as a kid.

We also had a few warlocks and witches, who have questionable sanity, come by to add to my father's newspaper.

A woman that looked like my mother but slightly older also came by and she and my mother had a heated argument at the doorsteps of our house, I really did wish that I could get out of my crib so that I can have catch what they were saying but alas the woman left and this baby body does not want to work.

My mother came back into the house and hastily closed all the locks we had at our door, my father came to her and comforted her the best he could, then she came to me and picked me out of my crib and held me tight to her chest.

My mother looked as if she was looking far away into the distance, then she spoke me, but it felt like she was convincing herself "Do not worry, mother is not going to allow them to take me from you."

My mother then fed me, changed my diapers, put me back in my crib leaving me to think to myself.

Who was that woman, she looked so similar to my mother, was she mother's sister? It seems there is a big mystery surrounding mother, in the books mother died to a spell backfiring, it looks like that there was more to it.

All in all, this is very worrying, and I do not want my new life to be ruined so I need to get stronger!

With new found conviction I throw myself into meditating and trying to sense the magic in me and around me.

Finally, after 3 months at it I can finally sense the magic in me and all around me!

I do not know how I did it, but I was carrying on meditating, wondering if this was all pointless but I decided to continue since I had nothing to do because I could not walk yet, and I had nothing much to do in my bed.

Then suddenly it was like I awakened an eye, a third eye, since I could see it.

Of course it not much, I can only see the magic 1 meter all around me but I finally came out with something.

It was really beautiful, that I cannot stop hanging my mouth wide open, staring wide eyes all around me and trying to absorb it all in.

I look deep into myself and I could see it, magic coursing in me.

I try to somehow grab it and I succeed but I let it go right away because I get hit with a sudden terrible headache.

Even with the terrible headache, I cannot help but feel gleeful, my stupid plan succeeded.

I try to calm down and review what is going on.

It seems like I awakened a third eye and I can see magic now, but that is nowhere in the books.

You know what fuck the books, I drink all that bullshit when I was a kid but when I read it again as a teenager, I had some serious questions like how could some kids defeat the greatest dark wizard of all time and how does a muggle-blood like Hermione know more about magic than pure-bloods like Draco who is from a noble family, like what the hell was he doing for 11 years, sitting around?

All I can trust in the books is the plot I know, but besides that I need to question everything else the books have to say about the wizarding world and magic.

Anyways what was that serious headache I got when I tried to grab the magic in my body?

I try the other approach and try to grab the magic in the environment but it seems not to listen to me so I grab it forcefully but it just slips away, I then grabbed it forcefully again, this time I tried to put into my body but I let it go right away because it felt like I was becoming very bloated and would blow up in a mess of blood and flesh any second if I did not let it go, I do not want to die this early into my new life.

This time I try to grab the magic in my body again since I had some success with it.

I grab the magic in my body and continue to grab more since I do not feel like I would die, I grab more and more trying to collect all of my magic in my body in one location. Then the terrible headache comes back, and I forced myself to continuously grab more magic until I passed out.

c 3

I woke up feeling like my mind was elevated, then I looked deep into myself with my third eye, yes that is what I am calling it, and magic was coursing in me just like before but this time I felt like I could control part of it and make it do what I want.

I play around with the magic that I can control so far, first I want to try a spell immediately, but I remember that I know none, so I play around with it in my body, then I notice that my body seems to absorb the magic I have control of and I am hit with a breath of fresh air and I feel so alive.

Interesting, I can use my magic to strengthen my body, mm.

After my body absorbs the rest of the magic I have control of, some magic from the environment comes trickling back into my body slowly.

I think to myself at that moment and gather up what I know so far.

The magic in the environment does not listen to my mental prowess, I think since it is not mine I cannot control it. I think that the magic must be in my body for it to be mine and so that it can be controlled, and I cannot stuff too much into my body or I will blow up.

So far, I have control over a part of my magic, I am going to make what I have control of until now a unit of measurement for myself, so far I have control of 1 unit of magic and I think I have 5 more units that I do not, let's make that my goal, get control of the rest of the magic in my body.

I spent the rest of the week feeling mentally elevated and with a splitting headache, it is really weird going from a high then to a low, but I am done, I now have control of all the magic in my body.

I was also able to make a discovery, every time I use up my magic I keep a little bit more in my body, it is not a full unit of magic, but it is progress and I can see my road to ruling the wizarding world becoming ever more closer, ha-ha.

My mother comes to my crib and picks me up, I smile and play with her, we continue this for a while me making baby gurgling sounds and my mother smiling and laughing happily.

After me play for a while, my mother feds me and lays me on the floor of the house and lets me crawl around, yes, I can crawl at 4 months, it seems like this is one of the perks of using magic to strengthen my body.

Finally, after spending months inside a crib I can taste freedom, I get a move on since I want to find every little secret in my new house but after crawling a few paces my mother grabs me and says to me "That is enough exercise my little man, back to your crib."

Feeling god smacked I am put back into my crib and my mother runs along before I can put in my protest.

I sigh to myself, there is not much I can do in my baby body.

I am three-years-old now, I was able to clear up a lot of stuff up. First, I now know where I fit in the timeline of the wizarding world, it was on Halloween when I was 2 years old that I heard my father shout happily that he-who-must-not-be-named was defeated by the Potter boy, so that makes me a year older than Harry Potter.

I also have a little sister who is over a year old, its Luna Lovegood. I always wanted a sibling in my past life and who better to have as a sibling than Luna, I really liked her character in the books, she my come across weird at first but once you get to know her, she is loveable, the most loveable side character in the harry potter serious in my view.

I have continued to carry out my so-called magic exercise, but ever since I got control of 10 units of magic it was like I meet a barrier and could not get another unit of magic in my body.

I have a nagging feeling that it's my understanding of magic that is holding me back since I know nothing of magic for far.

I decided that since I do not the classification for the levels of wizards and witches or I think they're just in aint one, I am going to make things easier for myself, and classify my magic, so level 1 is 1 unit to 10 units, 11 units of magic until the next barrier is level 2, and 0 units of magic will be level 0 I will assign that level for the muggles.

I am now able to start learning magic with my mother.

At one-year-old, I tried to sneak in books on magic from my mother study but I got caught red-handed and ever since then my mother has kept an eye out.

After no other solution, I cried my eyes out, I will have you know there was no other way. My mom was only able to calm me down after we agreed she will teach me all about magic theory when I am three-years-old.

Not a bad deal since Fred and George Weasley, who I hang out with, do not know anything about magic since their mother would not allow it.

c 4

I go into my mother's study room, and it is an amazing sight, there is all kinds of books on magic in my mother's study ranging from charm, potions, transfiguration, herbology, occlumency, legilimency, alchemy and even some books on the dark arts.

I sit down on a chair across from my mother who is sitting in front of a desk.

I cannot hold back myself and what to starting on magic right away, so I ask my mother "what are we going to start with?"

My mother smiles at me and she says, "We will meditate first!"

I whine "I want to do magic"

My mother holds her hands up to calm me down "This is the most important step in your magic training, you must awaken your third eye first, it allows you to see the natural energy around you and in you or you will be practically blind when it comes to practicing magic."

"I already did" I said with my nose up in the air

"WHAT, but how?" my mother asks

I already had an excuse ready for anybody who found out, especially for Dumbledore, but it stings to lie to my mother still it beats the alternative, my mother finding out of my past life.

"Ever since I was born I could see all those pretty lights in me and around me." I say innocently

My mother laughs happily and says to herself "My little baby is a genius, it took me 2 days to awaken my third eye, but he was born with it open already!"

I feel dazed, dang, I think I am trash when it comes to magic, I took over 3 months and my mother only took only 2 days.

"Okay now I will teach you how to get your natural energy under control." my mother says

"I already did." I say happily expecting to shock my mother again

But on the contrary my mother asks me slowly "How did you get your natural energy under control."

Feeling like I am about to get into trouble, I say "I just grabbed it"

My mother gets up from her chair and comes to me and touches me with one finger on the forehead, I suddenly feel a cold sensation slowly creep into my mind and then as suddenly as it came it left.

My mother looks at me and says, "You only came out with some mental strains, I have to say you are very lucky."

My mother hugs me and says, "Don't do that ever again, you could have shattered your mind and become a retard."

My mother lets me go and I keep my head down and say "I am sorry mom"

My mother sighs and says to me, "Magic can be amazing but at the same time very dangerous, you must make sure that you not only double check but triple check what you are going to do, okay?"

"Yes, anyways what was that cold sensation I felt?" I ask after I see that my berating is done

My mother laughs and explains to me "It is an advance form of legilimency I developed, unlike the legilimency that other use where you get to see random thoughts my legilimency lets you see a person whole life like a book."

Feeling as if my secret was found out I ask, "You saw my whole life?"

"No baby, that would shatter your mind, I just looked at your mental fortitude." my mother gets up "Okay wait here, I am going to get you a potion to heal the mental strains"

After a while my mother comes back with a flask and makes me drink it, then she sits back down at her chair and faces me

"Okay now tell me what else you have been up to or do I need to read your mind to make you spill all your past deeds?" my mother ask strictly

I spill everything that I did to my mother since I do not want anyone invading my mind, on a side note I really need learn occlumency, fast.

My mother looks both proud of me and angry "Let me explain the things you did, first, what you did when you let your body absorb the natural energy you got control of was called channeling, and I must say, I am proud of you for finding out of that, channeling gives you two benefits, first it allows you to have better magic resistance, meaning you can get hit with more spells until you go down, second it allows you to get use to natural energy so that you can put more into your body. That bloated feeling you had was because your body could not handle that much natural energy."

I ask my mother "Wait I thought that this natural energy stuff makes me stronger."

My mother smiles and says, "No, you are confusing natural energy with life energy, which you do not need to worry about since there is nobody who practice it on this realm."

I ask my mother " Can you explain these energies and how do you know things most people don't know about?"

"There are two different types of energies found everywhere, and in every realm, there is natural energy found all around us and only a select few can absorb it, control it, and make wonders with it. Then there is life energy found in all living things it is the stuff like as you said, make you stronger. I will not answer your other question because the more you know the more danger you will be in, if you ever want to help mother you must become a legendary wizard."

My mother looks at me and sighs then she says, "It is an impossible task since there is none in this realm and mother is also not there yet, but if you want to stand a chance to help my case you must become a legendary wizard or else there is not much you can do."

c 5

The mystery continues to build on, I take in all that my mother said and my mind spins, I have so many questions and so much I need to learn but my mother is right, if there is one law that is true where ever you go is that your strength decides all.

Anyways I first need to live through the rise of Voldemort and I need to realize my dream, ruling the wizarding world, it a new life why don't I have big aspiration.

As I come to that realization, my mother smiles and says, "It good that you were able to realize that, I know you are very smart and by hook or by crook you will reach great heights."

"Now then I can see you are very inpatient to start learning about magic but this is the final piece I have to say, I see that you were able to piece together some sort of power ranking system so let me clarify things for you. You are correct that muggles have 0 unit of natural energy, meaning that they are at level 0, then there is level 1 as you found out, they have from 1 unit of natural energy to 10 unit of natural energy. After that we have level 2 and level 3, the both of them including level 1 fall under the name, novice wizard and witches. Level 2 has 11 unit of natural energy to 25 unit of natural energy, then level 3 has 26 unit of natural energy to 50 unit of natural energy."

After my mother says all that I ask my burning question I had, "So mother where does a squib fall under?"

My mother raised an eyebrow then pinches my check and she says, "Good observation, a squib only has the little bit of natural energy that they are born with, but they are unable to absorb natural energy, so most of the time they would waste the little bit of natural energy that they have with on accidents of uncontrolled magic as kids."

I ask another question I had, "Mother why it is that I am stuck at 10 units of natural energy and that I am unable to absorb anymore natural energy?"

My mother says, "It is simple, you do not have enough understanding of magic to move on."

So my assumption was correct.

I could not hold myself back so I asked, "Can we start now?"

My mother laughs and says, "Yes"

My mother first teaches me how to gain control of my natural energy, it is slow but safe, I still cannot help but have shivers thinking about what would have happened if things went wrong.

"We will start with potions first, you will also learn herbology which includes not just harvesting the magical plants but how to raise them as well. You will also learn about magical creatures, I will be covering everything about them including their habitats, their weakness, and how to harvest them."

After my mother says all that she looks at me and asks if I have any questions.

I ask "What about spells and I want to learn occlumency"

My mother looks at my strictly and says, "What did I tell you about magic?"

I reply back "Magic can be amazing but at the same time very dangerous, you must make sure that you not only double check but triple check what you are going to do."

My mother nods her head and says, "It is good that you remembered what I said, you must not rush when it comes to magic but very tread carefully."

"If you do well in potions, herbology, and magical creatures, I will teach you spell theory on charms, transfiguration, and even the dark arts if I see that you are responsible."

I feel shocked because in the harry potter books the dark arts are a big taboo, so I ask, "Is aint the dark art forbidden and evil"

My mother laughs at me and says, "Only fools would think that, did you know that over 80% of all offensive and powerful fall under quote on quote the dark arts."

My mother sighs and says to me, "Magic is a force of nature, it is pure and free, it is the user's intentions that decides if his or her magic is evil, and anyways do you really want to fight with sticks while your enemy attacks you with a sharp sword?"

I lower my head and berate myself for my stupidity, in the near future I will be facing the greatest dark wizard of this century and I do not think I have the plot armor or the stupid luck of our heroes; Harry, Ron, and Hermione so I better relay on myself.

My mother continued on talking, "As I was saying potions, herbology, and magical creatures then spell theory on charms, transfiguration, and the dark arts, after that I will teach you occlumency and legilimency. At school you can practice real spells where they have a healer nearby, during the summers I will teach you runes, arithmancy, and my personal favorite and specialty, spell crafting."

My mother asks me if I have anymore questions on my eduction plan. I reply no since I am quite happy with what I will be learning.

"Good, we shall beging your studies tommorow so rest today." my mother tells me

I head out to leave my mother's study when my mother calls out to me and says, "Caelum, the topic of awakening the third eye and meditating stays between us, okay?"

I nod my head readitly, there is no way I am going to tell another soul, I fear even Dumbledore does not know about this stuff.

"Do not worry you can teach it to my grandchildrens and my daughter-in-law." my mother says laughinly

I reply back exasperatedly "Mother I am not getting married any time soon, I am 3 years old."

I leave my mother's study and ran along to meet Fred and George Weasley, to brag about how I get to start learning about magic.

c 6

I was in the outdoors playing some pranks on some unassuming muggles in the village with Fred and George Weasley.

I brag to them "You will not believe it, but my mother is starting to teach me some magic tomorrow."

Fred looks at me suspiciously and says, "What, no way, my mother did not even allow Bill to touch any books on magic and he has two years until he will be going to Hogwarts."

"I will be learning potions, herbology, and magical creatures, if I do well on those I will move on to spell theory on charms, and transfiguration," I say

Although Fred and George are my best mate, there is no way I am going to tell them or anyone for that matter that my mother is teaching me the dark arts, there is just too much mistrust against it and it is for good reasons, all dark lords that have raised up where masters at the dark arts.

"Wow, we need to have a good talk with our father, he might be able to convince our mother to teach us too, right Fred?" says George

"No way is mother going to let us learn anything, she is scared we will just end up in St. Mungo's," says Fred

"Yeah, you are right twin. Hey, why don't we learn from your mother, Caelum?" asks George

"My mother is going to ask your mother for permission first, do you think your mother will allow it, it is just potions and learning about some plants and creatures?"

"No mate, my mother is going to come up with a bunch of excuses like the cauldron could explode or you might make poison or something," says Fred sighting

At that moment we heard a yelp, we look out from our hiding place and see a Mr Weasley hanging upside down from a rope attached to a tree.

"Let me down boys," says Mr Weasley exasperatingly

We get a good laugh and untie the rope from the tree, Mr. Weasley falls to the ground, gets up, dust himself off, and says "Fred, George I came looking for you, it is getting late and your mother will get worried sick if you don't come back before it gets dark, let's get going."

Mr Weasley then looks at me and says, "Caelum, you should get back home too, before it gets dark."

I nod my head to Mr Weasley and say, "See you later Fred, George, I will tell you, all that I cover with my mother when I see you again." I ran along back home

Three years have gone by. All this time my mother has been drilling me in potions, herbology, and magical creatures. I thought that after a year I would have mastered everything there was, but my mother's collection is amazing, there are books from all over the world. I wonder how my mother got her hands on them, since most of the information, in my opinion, is not out there; like magical creatures, most people think are legends, ancient lost potion receipts, and mystical plants and trees.

I could not help myself so one day I asked my mother how she got her hands on all these books.

My mother replies "I stole them, you cannot believe most of these old wizarding families, they prefer to play plastics than to study and grow stronger, so they just let these books collect dust."

My mouth hangs open and I ask, "Don't these old wizarding families have powerful wards all around their houses?"

All I get for an answer is a smile.

Since then I put even more work into my studies since I want to be as powerful as my mother.

With ample books my studies have gone very well, I sucked in all the knowledge I come across like a sponge.

My mother even praised me by saying in these three years I covered what took her nearly a decade, I felt very smug about it and I guess my family noticed it. My mother knocked me down by a peg by telling me that her talents did not lay potions but spell crafting and that those who were very talented could have covered the same amount as I did.

My years at brewing potion have paid off, I can easily make all kinds of basic potions, a handful of different intermediate level potion, I am trying out some advance potions, and I looked over some potions that are one of a kind and I cannot wait to make some in the future. My mother was very happy with my progress and gave me a pile of galleons to buy rare ingredients, as I looked at all these galleons, I had a nagging feeling that my mother stole it from Gringotts bank.

My knowledge of magical creatures has grown a lot as well and I have learned many magical creatures' habitats, weaknesses, and what rare parts to look out for. What interested me the most were diaries of wizards and witches who travelled to remote parts of the world; like the Amazon rainforest, desolate islands on the Pacific, deep into the north and south poles, and many other places. Amazingly many of them believe that there are magical creatures that are beyond the XXXXX classification.

On my 5th birthday, I got a very special gift from my mother a suitcase with a space as big as an island. I used most of the land to plant my magical plants and trees, and my mother made me a cosy house inside the suitcase. The house has 3 floors, the basement, which I would use as a place to store ingredients and tool, I also have some cages for magical creatures I capture, what can I say I don't have much heart for creatures that would kill me. The first floor, I use it as a place to do my experiment and to entertain guest. The second floor, I use it to sleep there is I must.

c 7

Over the three years, many other people have made progress as well.

My father's newspaper, the Quibbler, has a lot more readers thanks to me.

Unlike the Daily Prophet which feels like a Corporate Overlord only after profit to the other wizards and witches. I instilled into my father to make the Quibbler feel like, to the wizards and witches that the Quibbler is a newspaper that is not controlled by powerful wizarding families or the Ministry, but that it is out there working to report the facts and cover what matters to everyday wizards and witches.

To bring in all those readers me and my father not only had to change how others view the Quibbler but do a lot of work on the materials that are published in the paper. We kept the wacky stories but put them in the back pages, we added a sport part mostly on quidditch, a business part mostly goblins from Gringotts bank add to this part, a politic part on the Ministry, a part on the latest shocking news, and finally our favorite section which is on the life and times of well-known wizards or witches.

My sister has grown up to be like my dad not as weird as the books since it took a lot of work on my part, but even so, she is very sweet, and I love her for who she is. I worry for her when she talks to those suspiciously crazy wizards and witches who come by our house to add to my father's newspaper. The good news is that she made a friend other than those crazy wizards and witches, Ginny Weasley, they get along pretty well.

There was one problem I ran into when it came to Luna, one day in the village I saw some muggle kids bullying Luna calling her names and whatnot, Ginny stood up for which improved my opinion of her greatly, the kids ran along after they saw some adults come along, as they left I made sure to memorize each and every ones face.

Those kids did not have a pleasant time for quite some time, I started out with catching them unaware and then making them drink potions that would give them the flu or stomach aches just, so they can remember my face and fear me. They did try to gang up on me but with the help of a few weak and vicious magical creatures, I broke their hopes of getting me, apart.

After a few times of that they learned to hide from me, but I have already moved on, I started putting some pastes on their clothes and anywhere their skin would touch, they started to get skin rash or pink eyes, and I did that, so they could start fearing their environment. They did try to tell their muggle parents, but I made sure that I hid my tracks and their muggle parents could not believe that a kid can just give sickness.

Next, I started to let them breathe in vapours unaware, now they know true despair since they started to get diarrhoea or headaches and they knew that they could not go to anyone or get me.

I was at home thinking about more punishments for those kids when my mother came up to me and said, "You can stop tormenting those kids, just make them apologize to Luna, I think that they have learned their lesson."

I tried my best to put an ignorant face and asked, "What kids are you talking about, mother?"

My mother rolls her eyes and says, "Those muggle parents may not believe it when their kids talk about giant monsters and being fed poisons but they would think that their kids are being bullied, so some of them came and complained to me."

I scowl and say, "Mother, those kids where bullying Luna and calling her weirdo and what not, they deserve what happens to them."

My mother nods her head and says, "You did a good job of getting those boys and I am proud of you for defending your sister, but you have to stop now while you are ahead."

My mother pauses then says, "Worst of all you could get caught. If you are going to do something dubious don't get caught, a quick way to be caught is to leave witnesses."

My mouth hangs open as I continue to listen to my mother, "You made your plan too long-winded, that now is very unprofessional, if I were in your shoes I would have made those kids breathe some vapours that give them nightmares and then when they are delirious I would speak a few quick words, as soon as that they would have come running to apologize to your sister. Let me tell you something Caelum, do you know the thing everyone fears? It is the unknown."

I think I feel cold sweat trickle down my back, I thought I was evil but no, my mother is a million times more evil than me, I hear my mother as she says, "If you kept on tormenting those kids for a long while, after they become adults they would have come with pitchforks and axes, but if you stop now they would think it is just childish fantasy when they grow up."

My mother pinches my cheeks and says, "Anyways you could use a bit of work but a good start."

I absently nod my head to everything my mother says, I also swear to myself that I shall learn my mother's devious. (author note: Can you teach this path to the great Dao)

My mother continues on "I think that you are ready to learn spell theories on charms, transfiguration, and the dark arts. You have shown that you can be vicious to your enemies and that you are protective of your loved ones, all characteristics needed to seek power but in the correct way so that you don't lose your humanity."

c 8

Four years have gone by and I stuck to one schedule over that time. When I wake up in the morning I would meditate and do my channelling exercise, although it does not make me stronger per say, it does provide me with a breath of fresh air and enough energy to stay awake for days.

In the morning my mother carries out her own studies and experiment, so I would read up on magical plants, magical creatures, and potions recipes, then I would experiment brewing new potions that are my very own creations.

In the afternoon I would spend time in the outdoors playing some pranks, talking about what I learn from my mother, and just hanging out with Fred and George Weasley.

I wanted to stay in my own suitcase and carry out my experiment, but my mother kicked me out, said I should spend some time outside, I guess she is right, it is not health being cooped up inside all day, so I chill with Fred and George Weasley.

Fred and George Weasley are very good friends, I have been hanging out with them for nearly a decade and I never get bored when I am with them. I loved their characters in the book and I have to say I fell the same in this world, they love to play jokes and pranks on others and they always never take it too far as to come out cruel, I guess Harry Potter said it well in the books, everyone needs a laugh and that what they do.

In the evening, I would study spell theories on charms, transfiguration, and the dark arts, and if I have any questions I would ask my mother. I wish I could test out my magic but one reminder from my mother cut that short, "If you try out magic, the ministry will notice you and you will not be able to go to Hogwarts." my mother tells me

That put a quick stop to me trying magic behind my mother's back, there is no way I will miss going to Hogwarts or the plot.

Before I go to sleep, I practice Occlumency with my mother, unlike the Occlumency shown in the books, where you have to clear your mind of everything, my mother taught me a different method.

"You will have to first gain access to your mindscape, to do that breath in and out then look deep into your mind." my mother says

I follow my mother's instructions and then as quickly as that I suddenly see it, a great flat plain big enough to fit a town, there is little ethereal spheres floating all over the plain, and covering the plain is a dome.

"I think I see it, it is a dome, some spheres, and a plain," I say to my mother

My mother nods her head and says to me, "Good, that plain is your mindscape, the dome is your mental barrier, and those spheres are your mental energy. Caelum, I know that you never did any magic yet, but do you know what it takes to do it?"

"Natural energy" I answer.

"What else?" my mother asks

"Is it those spheres, mental energy?" I reply back slowly

My mother nods her head and says, "Yes, wizards and witches focus on two things, natural energy which is the power source of our spells and mental energy which shapes our spells."

I nod my head, so that was the force at work when I was getting my natural energy under control.

"Now then what you are first going to do is make personas of the three things that make up your mind; your thought, your emotions, and your memories, there is also your subconscious but that will show itself naturally. After that, you will have to make something to guard your personas especially your memories. Start with something simple, over time you can make you defences better."

After I hear what my mother says I have a good idea what to do.

I make my thought take the form of a clone of me that repeat what I am thinking at that moment over and over, four clones of me come into existent. I make my emotions take the form of floating black and white masks with simple expressions, three masks come into existent like happy, thinking, and calm. For my memories I make them become books that can fly, ten of them appear.

For my defences, just like my mother said, I made it simple. I made a mansion is quite splendid with the four upper floors and two lower floors for a grand total of six floors. I placed it mansion in the middle of the plain, but it is not a mansion to live since has stairs that don't lead up but sideways, rooms with many walls or none at all, doors that pretend to be doors, walls that are doors, and so many ways to come in and out. I put my clones that are my thought, masks that are my emotions, and books that are my memories all into the mansion.

My mother asks me, "Did you finish?"

I nod my head and tell her what I made.

My mother says, "Good job, every day make sure you add more to your mindscape, every time you add more your mental control gets better, and don't worry your mindscape will increase in size once you get more powerful."

My mother also taught me legilimency, there are three ways to go about using legilimency.

First, you can invade somebodies mind like a hammer it is quick, but it can hurt your target.

You can go invade somebodies mind like throwing knives, you can find the weakness in somebody's mind and go in, it takes the average amount of time among the other ways.

You can also invade somebodies mind like the mist, it allows you to go in unsuspecting, but it takes a long time.

After learning Occlumency and Legilimency I feel mentally exhausted but before I hit the bed I do my meditation and do my channelling exercise.

c 9

I breathe in and out, I can feel it, today is the day I finally break through.

I continue doing my channelling exercise, my body absorb more and more natural energy until there is no more in my body, then suddenly as if there was a black hole in my body, natural energy comes rushing into me, I slowly gain control of them all and I notice I have 26 units of natural energy under control, I finally broke through level three.

I have snapped away from my glee as I hear my mother calling me to come down for breakfast.

I get off my bed and head downstairs.

In the kitchen, I see my mother making some pancakes, my sister is reading a potion book, and my father writing away for his newspaper, The Quibbler.

I sit down at the kitchen table and steal a bite of my sister's breakfast, she scowls at me and I laugh it off.

That reminds me of those kids that bullied my sister after my mother warned me I went to those kids and told them to apologise to my sister and the torment will stop. The ran over to my sister as soon as they could with tears of happiness in their eyes and showered her with apologies, ever since then none of the kids in the village even look at my sister funny.

I look at my father and ask him, "Hey, dad, why don't you hire somebody to help you with The Quibbler?"

My father's newspaper has been doing great these days, we have a few hundred subscribes much better than the few handfuls of wacky wizards and witches we use to only have.

Even with the redesign, we had only had only a few more people subscribing, I add some potion receipts that I redesigned so that you can save a lot of money on the ingredients and that helped a lot with the newspaper business.

People saw the potions receipts and spread it and we had waves of people buying our newspaper and thanks to the redesign of the newspaper, we were able to keep many folks, my father even had a bunch of letters telling him of how much they like our newspaper over the daily prophet.

I could have made a lot of money with those potion receipts, but I wanted to help my father, even though he may not show it, he wants this newspaper to spread wide and far, but the only audience he got was those wacky wizards and witches.

Even so, I got a widespread reputation out of publishing those potion receipts, since then many wizards and witches were calling me a genius some even calling me the second Dumbledore.

"It is fine, I can handle it." my father replies back

My mother comes to the kitchen table and hands me my breakfast, looks at my father and says, "He is right, you are overworking yourself."

My father sighs "I guess the both of you are right, I will look for some people."

I snicker to myself if my mother wishes something of my father, he always makes sure to follows it.

My mother sits down with her breakfast then she looks at me and says "I have a surprise for you this afternoon, I know you are saddened to see your friends going to Hogwarts after summer."

I sigh when my mother reminds me of that, a few days ago Fred and George Weasley got their letters, man how I wish I could go too.

"What is it?" I ask my mother.

"You will know in the afternoon." my mother replies back with a smile on her face.

Seeing that I will not be getting answers I finish my breakfast and head up to my room, then I go to my suitcase, open it, and go inside.

I carry out my potions experiments and do some reading after a while I see that it is 12 o'clock so I get out of my suitcase looking for my mother to see this surprise she has for me.

I go downstairs and see that my sister is gone, she must have left to play outside, my father is also not here, I remember that he said he will go put out some notice out in Diagon Alley.

I hear voices in the living room, so I head over there.

I walk inside the living room and see my mother talking with two older people, a man and a woman.

My mother notices me walking in, she gets up from her chair, walks over to me, and says to the two-elderly people "This is my son, Caelum. Caelum these two are Merlin and Morgana."

Before I could comprehend what, my mother said, the elderly man laughs and say, "We go by different names Pandora, it is Nicolas Flamel and Perenelle Flamel."

My mouth hangs open after I hear what they say.

As if my not noticing my shock, they continue on with their conversation.

"I did not know you changed your name." my mother says

Nicolas laughs "We changed our names a long time ago, it was just that as our overlords, we told you are real name."

My mother scowls "You know I do not view the both of you like that, you have helped me much when I came here."

Perenelle playfully smacks her husband hand and say, "He was just playing with you, anyways I see that your son is very talented, he could come to Beauxbatons we still have great pull there."

My mother shacks her head and says "He grew up here in the British wizarding community, he knows nothing of the French wizarding community. Anyways, I asked you both to come here because I wanted you to talk to the Head of Hogwarts, Dumbledore, for me, you guys know him, and I want you to put in a word for me."

Perenelle asks "And what would that be?"

My mother says, "I want him to start at Hogwarts early."

c 10

Perenelle looks at me and asks, "What do you say boy, are you ready to start at Hogwarts at ten years old?"

Still feeling shell-shocked from the information I just heard, I say "I.. y ou..How"

Nicolas laughs and says, "I think we broke the boy with the things we have spoken about."

Waking up from my shock, I ask the burning question I have, "How are the both of you alive for this long?"

My mother grabs my hand, sits me down, looks at me like she is trying to hold back her laughter, and says to me, "There is no reason to be shocked about these two pair of skeletons, they are alive for this long because their life and death are tied to this planet."

Feeling confused I say "What?"

Nicolas looks at me and says, "Do you know about the Fountain of Youth, kid?"

I nod my head, everyone knows about the Fountain of Youth and its mystical properties, while the muggles may take it as legend, wizards and witches on the other hand would easily believe about its existent, why not since ghosts and magical creatures walk among us.

Nicolas continues on "Me and my wife found it, just like the legends says it gave us eternal life, but how the fountain of youth did it was interesting, it tied us together with this planet, so as long as this planet remains we shall live."

No wonder they did not give two shits about the philosopher's stone destruction in the books, they were already immortal. It all makes sense now, I always thought it was weird how the Flamel couple took the news very easily, when they found out that their source of immortally was destroyed.

Perenelle looks at me and asks, "Enough about backstories, you still did not answer my question boy, do you want to start at Hogwarts this early?"

I nod my head eagerly, walking ten thousand miles is better than reading ten thousand books. I for one am ready to start my journey, staying home and reading about magic is good and all, but it is time I try the real deal instead of reading about it all day.

My mother pitches up for me as well "Nicolas, Perenelle I can assure you he is more than ready to start at Hogwarts early, I taught him much and he will excel when he goes there."

At that moment somebody comes into the house and we see who it is as they walk into the living room and it turns out to be my sister.

My mother waves my sister over "Luna come over here and greet my good friends, Nicholas Flamel and Perenelle Flamel."

"Ow, she is very cute, do you plan to let her start at Hogwarts early, Pandora." asks Perenelle as she playfully pinches Luna cheeks

My mother shacks her head

I can understand the reason why, first it is because she will not be with her only friend, Ginny. Secondly, my sister, Luna, is not like me, my mother put me on a path to become a very powerful wizard like Dumbledore and Voldemort.

I asked my mother one day, why she did not teach Luna about how to open her third eye and what not.

My mother answered by saying, "There will be too much evil eyes upon her, people will be scheming how to use her or how to overthrow her, or one day she will have to make a touch call and Luna would not be able to handle all that, she is too good natured."

I know then it was a tough call my mother made and that my sister will not be joining whatever my mother has planned and I notice it saddens her.

To lighten the mood, I ask "Are you just saying I am evil and my sister is not?"

My mother laughs and replays "You sure do catch on fast."

After a while Nicholas and Perenelle leave and promise to talk to Dumbledore, so that I can be accepted to Hogwarts a year early.

"So that was the surprise you were talking about this morning?" I ask my mother

My mother nods her head and asks me, "How did you like it?"

I smile and reply "It is great I can start early."

Although my mother is a great teacher, it would be great to have second thoughts and I want to ask the professors so many questions; like I want to ask Professor McGonagall more about animagus, I have been reading a lot about animagus, what can I say it is the number one magic I want to master, because who does not want to look so epic turning into a cool animal and I feel like I can do it, but to be on the safe side I want to double check some points with Professor McGonagall since she has done it before. I want to talk to Hagrid about if he believes in the existence of level XXXXXX magical creatures. I want to talk to Professor Flitwick about dueling since he was Dueling Champion, reading about different dueling stances and doing it by yourself is quite hard unless you have some one to show you it.

The most important reason of all is that I want to start doing magic, although I doubt my mother when she told me the Ministry could find out if I did magic in our house, I just do not want to take any chances and miss out on all the plot that happens in Hogwarts and where else am I going to find my waifu.

c 11

POV Change

In the headmaster office, two elderly couples appear out from a blazing fire in the fireplace.

As it turns out the two old couple are the Flamel couple, Nicholas and Perenelle.

An old wizened man with a great beard turns around from his desk and faces the two-elderly couple.

The wizened old man is Albus Dumbledore, as most will know as is the greatest light wizard of the 20th century.

The old man gets up from his chair, walks over to the two-elderly couple, and says to them, "It is good to see the both of you, masters."

Among the two couple, the elder woman, Perenelle, goes up and greets the old man "It good to see you to, Albus."

Dumbledore asks, "What brings you here, masters, I thought you were relaxing at your home in France."

Nicholas shakes his head and says, "Are you still mad we did not join the Order of the Phoenix?"

Nicholas looks right at Dumbledore and continues, "Once you are as old as us, you will learn the best approach to some things is to let it run its course. The wizards and witches of this world have not improved at all for hundreds of years while the muggles made so much advances in their science and technology. There is a reason why these dark wizards are able to gain a mass following easily now a days, we need to change and people will look up to somebody to lead them in times of uncertianty."

Perenelle lightly touches her husband's sleve and looks at both old man and says, "Enough bickering, you are both teacher and student must you have this argument ever time, it has been going on since the rise of Grindelwald, I think it is time to put it to rest. Albus, dear we have today to talk to you about something, it aint that right Nicholas?"

Nicholas nods his head and says, "Yes, a friend of ours wanted to put in a word for them to you, she wants her son to be accepted early, she has taught him much and I believe he is ready to start at Hogwarts early."

Dumbledore nods his head and says, "If you think he can handle it, I will notify Professor McGonagall to send the child a accepts letter."

Dumbledore looks at the painting of past Headmaster and Headmistress and asks them, "I am the current Headmaster, so I do have the authority to accept a student to Hogwarts early, correct?"

The paintings nodded their head, then one of them speaks up "They were already a handful, now you want to accept one that smells like his mother's milk, well I am not the one who will be changing his diapers."

Another painting speaks up, "Why are you always shrinking and complaining about your duties, Phineas?"

Dumbledore ignores the portraits and asks his teacher, "Who is this child you want me to accept?"

Nicholas laughs and says, "You must have heard about this child, the second coming of Dumbledore."

Realization dawned on to Dumbledore then and he asks, "That lovegood boy, his name was Caelum if I remember correctly, I must say his potion recipes are truly fascinating."

POV Change

That morning as I came down for breakfast my mother handed me a letter saying it just came in and it is for me. I look at it and I see it has the seal of the four houses then I know it is my acceptance letter, I opened it as fast as I could and read what it said

Dear Mr Lovegood,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

Second page

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl or a cat or a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

I show my mother the acceptance letter that I received.

"Well calm down, we will get your supplies and your wand tomorrow."

At that moment my father and my sister come down stairs for breakfast, I show the both of them my acceptance letter, my sister takes it from me, I guess to stare in amazement.

My father laughs and says, "I guess the saying is true 'good news come in pairs' I have good news as well, I found a helper."

Me and my mother ask at the same time, "Who is it?"

My father laughs awkwardly "He is Remus Lupin"

My mother looks at my father with her brows crossed and says, "What are you hiding Xenomorph."

I can guess at that moment what it is that my father is trying to hide.

When my father sees that look from my mother he spills the beans "He is a werewolf, but dear you should know he is a good person."

I always felt sad about Lupin's case, he was bitten as a child without his consensus and he had to face discrimination for just being a victim.

I speak up, "Mom, it does not matter if the person father hired is a werewolf, it all about if he can get his job done, other than that you will just discriminating against him."

My mother shakes her head and says, "No dear I do not care if he is a werewolf as long as does not lose control."

I nod my head and say, "Well it is settled, are we going in the morning to get my supplies?"

"Yes" my mother replies.

c 12

The next day me and my mother made our way to the Leaky Cauldron, we hurriedly made our way to the back alley of the Leaky Cauldron, there were many families going in, whome I believe are the families that will be sending their kids of too Hogwarts, me and my mother follow the other families along into Diagon Alley.

I have to say walking around Diagon Alley is amazing and my mind was truly blown away, it is my first time here and I take in all the magical sights; I see wizards and witches wearing all sorts of different robes, shops with all kinds of magical trinkets, magical creatures that I have only read about and dreamed to see, and with all the magic going on it invigorates me to try it to.

The first thing we needed to start our shopping is money, my mother brought me to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. After entering the huge, grand bank, we went up to a goblin teller, my mother explained that she wanted to withdraw money from her bank, then a goblin popped out from back and took us down to the vaults on a speeding cart, which felt just like a rollercoaster.

We got to my mother's vault and the goblin opened it for us to go inside and I saw piles and piles coins which were not bronze Knuts, or silver Sickles, but golden Galleons, with this much money I am set for life even if I live lavishly I think to myself.

I look at my mother and ask, "How are you so rich mother?"

My mother smiles and replies back, "Didn't I tell you I am a spell crafter, well I sold a few spells to some noble wizarding families. Caelum do you know what every single wizarding family prizes the most? It is not magical artifacts, property, or money but secret spells left behind. Spell crafters are deeply appreciated where ever you go because spell crafting is terrible difficult, and it would be a miracle if you make a handful of spells in your life time with one or two being powerful. Anyways how did you think I gave you all those Galleons to buy your ingredients."

I fake cough to hide my awkwardness, no way I am going to mention that I thought my mother stole the Galleons from Gringotts Wizarding Bank, I think my mother would take away all my inheritance for thinking like that about her, but could I really be blamed for thinking like that of my mother, she is just to badass and powerful.

My mother grabs handfuls of Galleons and puts it into her purse and it seems to not get full with all that money that is put inside, so I guess that there is an extension charm on the purse.

We got back on to the cart, speed our way out of the underground vaults, and headed out of the bank, the first store we go to, is Flourish and Blotts, although there is already a copy of these books that I need for school in my mother's library, I still need my own copies of the books for Hogwarts.

Then my mother takes me to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions to get my robes and winter cloak, I always did want to try wearing a robe and look epic with it, you may ask why I never did wear a robe since my family are wizards and witches, but we live in a village with muggles, so we needed to look muggle like and for that reason my parents never saw a reason to get me anything other than muggle clothing.

After that we made our way to Scribbulus Writing Instruments to get ink, quills, and parchments. We made our way to Potage's Cauldron Shop to get a good cauldron since that one I have is damaged a lot from my experiments.

Then we went to the Apothecary to get potion ingredients, I greeted the owner since this is our first-time meeting face to face, he was happy to see me, one of his best customer, me and him have been exchanging owls for a while now, since I need ingredients, the shop owner gave me a good discount since I told him I will be starting at Hogwarts soon, after me and my mother left the shop the owner had a deep look of regret that he ever offered me a discount, since I pretty much emptied his shop.

My mother took me to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour for a treat, while I was enjoying my delicacies strawberry and villain ice cream my mother asked me "What would you like for a pet, Caelum?"

"An owl" I immediately answered back, If I want my wizarding set up to be complete I need the bird that represents wisdom.

My mother smiles and says, "I know the perfect shop that has the best owls."

I finish up my ice cream and my mother takes me to Eeylops Owl Emporium, I at look all the owls in the shop and in the snowy owl section I run into an owl with snow white feathers and beautiful amber colored eyes, it is Hedwig. At that moment I know that I want this owl, I shrug my shoulder, I do not think Harry would mind if I take this owl for my pet, it is first come first serve. I tell my mother that I want this owl and my mother tells me that it is a good choice, I laugh to myself, of course it is this should have been the hero's pet.

We head out of the shop, finally it is time to get my wand.

c 13

I look at my mother and ask, "Are we going to Ollivanders now?"

My mother nods her head, "He is the only one that is barely passable in this place."

I accept it as it is, and what I do not know is that with all the time I spent with my mother my mindset has changed a lot, I stopped worshipping or revering powerful like Dumbledore and Voldemort and started to treat and think of them as my equal.

We enter the wand shop and Mr. Garrick Ollivander comes out from the back.

"Good afternoon Mr. Ollivander, I have come in today to get my wand." I say

"Yes, yes starting out at Hogwarts if I am to be correct, and what would be your name?" says Ollivander

"Caelum Lovegood" I answer back

The wand maker nods his head "Ah, the young genius of potions."

Then Ollivander looks that my mother and asks, "You did not get a wand from me, yes, I remember every wand that leaves my shop."

All my mother does is smile.

Ollivander moves on "If you would hold out the hand you primarily use, good."

I held out my right hand while the Ollivander's magical tape began measuring my hand and my body then Ollivander started bringing out different boxes and took out wands for me to try. I tried from one to another and Ollivander kept on bringing me different wands to try but all of them did not just click for me, yes, I could use them, but it kept on resisting me like it knows that I was not destined for it.

The pile of tried wands grow and grow, until Ollivander started muttering to himself and looked at me for a while.

"You are a tough customer Mr. Lovegood, it seems like I will have to bring out my rarer goods."

I tried all six rare wand Ollivander had, I even think Harry's future wand was in the mix.

"It seems like all my wands do not work for you Mr. Lovegood, hmm, it seems like I will have to make one for you."

At that moment my mother pitches in "It seems like you are done wasting our time and are ready to get to the real business."

"Whatever do you mean miss?" asks Ollivander

My mother scoffed "You know what I mean Ollivander, there is a big difference between a ready-made wand and a wand tailor made for you."

Ollivander nods his head "It seems like you know your wandlore"

"Yes, I do, I am willing to pay any amount of Gallons for you to make a good wand for my son so I do not want any riff raff materials but the best of the best, also use your families gift to see my son's affinity, and do not put that pesky ministry tracker in my son's wand, I am willing to put in extra Gallons for your trouble." my mother says

I laugh to myself, Ollivander must be shocked with all the orders my mother quickly fired of to him and I think I see his all-knowing persona slipping.

"Yes, yes, I shall see to that is all done miss, eh, I never really did catch your name if I am to be correct." says the wand maker

"It is Pandora Lovegood." my mother answers

Ollivander nods his head, turns to looks at me, stares at me for quite some time, and it felt like he is looking deep inside me.

"You have very interesting affinities boy, the stars and death. I have the perfect core for you, the handle, and the focus crystal could be easily covered, but I wonder what should be the material. That one has been sitting here for a while now, we could try that one." he runs off to the back of the store and comes back carrying a suit case of sorts.

Ollivander opens it and a beautiful piece of black colored metal with bright little lights coming in and out of exsistance is sitting right inside the suit case.

"This was found by my grandfather, he found it when he was travelling, and he came across this metal when he heard about something falling from the sky near a muggle village." he says

My mother speaks up and her eyes are glowing with delight, "It is perfect, use this to make my son's wand, I will make sure you are properly paid."

"It seems like Ms. Lovegood knows what this is." says Ollivander

My mother snorts, "Do not worry about that, how long will it take you to finish making the wand."

"nine days" answers the wand maker

My mother nods her head and leaves the store, I say my goodbyes to the wand maker and follow after my mother.

I catch up to my mother and ask, "Mom what was that metal?"

"It is called a starmetal, it comes from a star and on rare occasions a star would spit it out." my mother says

"What about that ministry tracker?"

My mother rolls her eyes, "How do you think the Ministry knows you kids do magic over the summer and how does it find out some people are up to dark magic."

"That makes sense, so Ollivander puts trackers in his wand for the Ministry?"

My mother nods her head, "It is the same for all wand makers, do you think any Ministry will let them operate if they didn't, but the wand makers hate the Ministry for making them do that, so they would not mind going behind the Ministry's back to remove a tracer for the right price."

"So, you where lying to me when you said the Ministry has a big machine that can notice any unauthorized and illegal magic?" I ask

My mother sighs, "Yes, and I did it for your own good, I did not want you to go behind my back and try some magic then get hurt badly."

I could understand why my mother did that and a part of me already know that the giant machine was bogus, but I could use this incident to blackmail my mother to get me some stuff I want.

c 14

Ten days later my mother brings me back to Ollivander's wand shop.

We go inside, and we are greeted by Ollivander standing at the counter look at the door, expecting somebody to come inside.

At the corner of my eyes, I catch my mother rolling her eyes.

I greet the wand maker and ask, "Is my wand ready?"

"Yes, it is ready, and I must say it is the finest work ever made in this shop's long history," says Ollivander as he gets out a box from under his counter.

Inside the box is a stunning wand that has a black metal shine with small little dots of lights flashing in and out, the handle of the wand is greyish white, and below the handle is a golden crystal as bright as the sun.

"The wand is 12 inches in length and it is neat, quick, and flexible. Firstly, we first have the mysterious metal that fell from the sky that makes up the body of the wand, then we have the handle which is made of elder wood, representing powerful magic and great destiny, then we have the focus gem which is made of sunstone, representing life, power, and freedom, finally we have the core which is made of thestral tail hair, representing death, peace, and fear."

Ollivander hands me the wand and as soon as my hand touches the wand a swarm of small little dots of lights burst out of my wand and arrange themselves in the ceiling of the shop becoming a sort of cosmos with splendid sights.

As soon as it appeared it also disappeared just like a snap, "Wow" I say under my breath

"Spectacular, my boy, this is the first of its kind phenomenon to occur and it seems like this wand has chosen you my boy." says the wandmaker

My mother speaks up, "How much do I owe you for the wand?"

"The elder wood will cost you a lot, that Sunstone was no ordinary sunstone at all so add that, I know where a herd of thestral live so that will not cost you a lot, even if you did not tell more about the mysterious metal one, thing I can figure out it that it costs a lot for sure, and I did not put in a tracker so add a little bit more for the risk I am taking, all in all, it will be 53 Gold Galleon," Ollivander says

That is 7 to 8 times a regular wand I think to myself.

My mother pays the amount and even gives thanks to him for the wand, then we head out of the shop.

Time has quickly passed, and I was able to try some basic spell with my new wand like wingardium leviosa, after a while I was able to get a better understanding of how spellworks operates and I came to the same conclusion that my mother described.

In spellworks there is first natural energy which is like the power or electricity, then there is metal energy which shapes or molds the spell.

I was able to learn even more when I used my third eye at the same time that I used some spells, my wand helps focus my natural energy and the chants help focus my mental energy.

When I told my mother the things I figured out myself, my mother rewarded me by giving me a book on different ways of casting; like Chantless casting where you say the chant in your mind and not out loud, it is good for catching your opponent unaware. Then there is Intent casting where you do no chant out loud or in your mind, but you need a mental image, it is good because it is very quick. Then there is Wandless-Chant casting where you say the chant but without your wand, it is good when you lose your wand in battle. Finally, there is True Wandless casting where you hold the metal image and do not use a wand, it is the most difficult and only very powerful wizards and witches have mastered it.

I decided to put a lot of focus on learning these different types of casting and I asked if my mother knows who else can do these different types of casting to see how will other wizards and witches fare against me.

"Most wizards and witches would know a few spells chantless but only masters like your teachers at Hogwarts will master chantless casting. Powerful wizards and witches like Dumbledore will have mastered chantless casting and Wandless-Chant casting. Ancient wizards and witches like Nicholas Flamel and Perenelle would be able to use Intent casting." my mother reply back to me

I was able to test many potions I saved up on Hedwig and she has grown much with the potions I feed her; like the Strengthening potion, the Wit-Sharpening Potion, the Girding Potion, the Memory Potion, and the Gregory's Unctuous Unction. With this Hedwig is much clever, stronger, faster, smarter, human-like, and treats me like its parents.

We still have plenty of time to get there on time, but I am feeling jittery today since I am getting closer to catching my dream, I already have finished packing all my stuff and am waiting for my sister and parents to quickly come downstairs so that we can leave.

My father is the first one to come downstairs and see me nervously waiting downstairs "Is my little Caelum nervous, well I guess there is a first for everything."

"I am not nervous, I am just excited that is all and I am not little anymore," I say crossly

My mother pitches in at that moment, "Why do you not stop teasing my son and get the floo powder ready."

My father gets the fire ready and my mother comes to me and say, "You will do wonderful at Hogwarts so there is no reason to freat."

I nod my head and my sister comes down finally, then we all gather around the flame, my father throws in some powder and we enter it one at a time, it is time for me to get to the train and get to Hogwarts to start on my next leg of the journey.

c 15

"Have a good semester at Hogwarts," my father says to me.

"Take care of yourself big brother at school, make sure to please come home during Christmas, and send letters when you are at Hogwarts," my sister says to me with pleading eyes.

"I know you will do very well, come here and give me a hug before you leave," my mother says, I give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Take care, I will make sure to write to you guys often," I say to my family as I pick get on the Hogwarts Express.

I am able to find a compartment that is empty and use the levitation spell to put my suitcase and owl cage with Hedwig inside on the empty rack and sit down.

I wave at my family that outside still and in the corner of my eye I catch the Weasely family coming through the wall.

I see Mr and Ms Weasley herding the kids on to the train. There is Bill who is a graduated from Hogwarts and now works at Gringotts as a Curse-Breaker who I got to know when I hanged out with the twins and if I there is one word to describe him as it would be 'cool' and he is the like the older brother you wish you had. Then there is Charlie who is a 6th year, who I have talked to about magical creatures and my greatest curiosity, the existence of XXXXXX magical creature. There is also Percy who is a 3rd year, he is the most hardworking in the family and the most ambitious and I can understand where he comes from, a poor family, but his mistake is that he thinks he is always right and that makes him look like he has a stick up his ass. There are the twins who are really great mates and I cannot wait to see the look on their faces when they see me going to Hogwarts. Then there is Ron, who gets easily jealous of what others have, attention seeking and does not work for anything, expecting everything to be given to him. Finally, there is Ginny who I have a high opinion of, ever since I saw her defending my sister.

I make a final wave to my family and the train starts moving, soon two people came inside my compartment partially and before they could have a look at me ask "Is there room in here for two more?"

"Sure, there is more than enough room in here" I reply

The two people that spoke to me have a good look at me and are shocked.

"Is that you Caelum?" asks Fred

"In the flesh" I answer back with a wicked smile.

"But how, aren't you 10 years old?" says George.

"My mother was able to get me in early since she taught us a lot and I guess my reputation as a genius helped," I reply back smugly

"Wow, why did you tell us during the summer, we will be starting at Hogwarts at the same time?" asks Fred

"Weren't two folks acting all smug and superior during the summer, I wanted to see the looks on their faces," I answer back

"I guess we were acting a little smug" Fred says with an awkward laugh

I roll my eyes "You have been rubbing it in my face for weeks."

"Okay, okay we did take it too far," says George

"All is forgiven," I say in my most magnanimous tone

That gets a chuckle out of the twins and I help them with their cases by using a levitation spell to put it in the upper racks.

"You can do magic already," says Fred incredulity

"I have been studying spell theories for a long time now and this is just a basic spell you guys will be able to do it in weeks," I say

"Great I cannot wait to get started doing magic, our mother barely lets us read any," says Fred

George nods his head, "I am worried about which house we will be sorted into."

"Yeah, Gryffindor is good since mostly everyone in our family is in it, Ravenclaw is okay but I do not think we got enough book smart to be in it, if I get sorted into Hufflepuff I rather go home, and I think we will be disowned if we get sorted into Slytherin, you know dark wizard and stuff," says Fred

I nod my head, being in Slytherin would be horrible since the only alley I can make is Voldemort and he would see my talent as a risk, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are okay but it is not where the real plot happens.

At that moment a lady comes with a trolley, "Anything off the trolley, dears?" asks the trolley lady

The twins shake their heads, I guess they do not have any money.

I speak up, "Could I have a little bit of everything you have."

The trolley lady gives me all kinds of treats; like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean, Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Jelly Slugs, Liquorice wands, and Pumpkin Pasties. I share all of them with the twins and we continue our chat as the train speeds along to Hogwarts.

After a while, Charlie comes to our compartment as we are looking at the chocolate frog's cards we got. "There you are, we are nearly at Hogwarts so go put on your robes, you too Caelum, hurry we are almost there."

As we are hurriedly putting on our robes a voice comes over us "We will be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

We finish putting on our robes at the moment the train slows down, and we finally stop at the train station.

Charlie leads us out of the train and what catches my attention is a giant of a man with a great big beard.

c 16

"All right, firs't year c'mon over here," said Hagrid in his booming voice

"All first years need to follow Hagrid, go on, move along," Charlie says to the three of us.

We make our way over to Hagrid and I make sure to greet him, Hagrid is truly a book that you cannot judge by its cover, he may come across threatening at first but he is very caring to everyone and all creatures, and he is loyal and lovable once you get to know him.

Hagrid leads us over a bend and to the edge of the great lake and near us all are many boats.

"Four to a boat" yells Hagrid as all the first years hurry to get on to a boat.

Me, the twins, and a boy get on one boat.

"Nervous mates, I sure am, the name is Lee Jordon by the way, am I rambling, sorry, I did not ask what your guy's names are."

Lee Jordon, he was best mates with the twins in the books if I remember correctly, not much else was added about him. "It is alright, the first day everyone is nervous, anyways I am Caelum and these two jokers are Fred and George."

"Ha, very funny, this is Mr Lovegood the prodigy," says Fred

"Wow, you are really the potion genius, I thought you were 10 years old now?" asks Lee

"Our genius gets to start early since he is smarter than the rest of us" George answer with a playful tone

I roll my eye at the twins and before I could say anything back the boat gives us a shock by starting to move on its own.

Hagrid's voice came "Keep them hands and feet in the boat," but nobody is paying attention to him since everyone is silently staring up at the great castle overhead us all. It towered over us as we sail closer and closer to the cliff on which it stood.

The boats stops at a harbour of sorts, we all get off them, and make our way over pebbles and sand. Hagrid leads us all up a flight of stairs and knocks on a huge wooden door.

The door swings open and we are greeted to the sight of a witch with black hair tied into a bun in emerald coloured robes and a stern look on her face, it is Professor McGonagall.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I shall lead them from here," says Professor McGonagall

"Yo'ur very welcom', Professor McGonagall," says Hagrid and he heads off

Professor McGonagall ushers us inside and she leads us pass moving paintings, ceilings way too high to make out magnificent marble staircase, and flaming torches.

We follow Professor McGonagall until we reach a stone door and behind it, we could hear loads of voices, the rest of the students and teachers must be behind it I think to myself, Professor McGonagall shows us into a small, empty room away from the stone door.

All of us first years crowded inside the small room standing and peering at Professor McGonagall nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, first years, no need to be nervous I am just going to give all of you an introduction," says Professor McGonagall

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose you house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes landed on a few students that have much to fix up.

"How do we get sorted?" asks Lee

I shrug my shoulders and answer "By a talking hat."

Suddenly I hear a gasp and I turn and look to see about twenty ghosts that have just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.

What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed us first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them.

"About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few of the students nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told us, "and follow me."

c 17

I got into line behind the twins and Lee got behind me in line, we walked out of the room, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

I must say the great hall is truly a strange and splendid place. It is lit by thousands and thousands of candles that are floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students are sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.

Professor McGonagall led us the first years up here so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at us looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly of the first-year kids avoid all the staring eyes, I looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

I heard one of the twins nearly shout, "There is no roof."

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." I tell the twins and Lee.

I look over as Professor McGonagall silently places a four-legged stool in front of us. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. It must be the sorting hat, I think to myself.

Everyone in the hall is now staring at the hat, I stared at it, too waiting to see what it will sing for us. For a few seconds, there is complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing. I lose interest in the song as all it covers is the traits of the Four Houses.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Davies, Roger"

He must be the future Ravenclaw captain and he went with to the Ball with Fleur. "RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouts. The table second from the left clapped, several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Roger as he joined them.

"Diggory, Cedric!"

He was a good chap, sad that he died in the fourth book, I will try to help him, but I am not going to be an idiot about it and risk my neck if I cannot take on Voldemort.

The hat takes a moment pause "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouts the hat. The table on the right cheered and clapped as Cedric went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. I saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at him.

Professor McGonagall calls more students to put on the sorting hat, then, at last, it is my turn, "Lovegood, Caelum"

Some people broke into whispers, it seems like there are quite a few people that know about my accomplishment in potions from my father's newspaper or from other people.

I sit down on the stool and put on the sorting hat.

I hear a voice "Interesting, you fit the bill for all four houses, now you are quite rare. You will do well in all four houses, so I will let you pick, what do you say about that?"

"Gryffindor!" I answer back immediately.

"Now, if I may ask why would you pick that house and not the other houses?" the hat asks

"It is obvious, it is where all the action happens, and where there is strife there will be plenty of opportunities to grow stronger."

"Interesting answer," the hat says to me.

After everyone in the Great hall waited for a few minutes, the sorting hat finally speaks up and shouts "GRYFFINDOR!"

I get a great round of applause and cheering from the Gryffindors, make my way to Gryffindor table, and sit next to Lee Jordon who got sorted before me.

"Well done, Caelum," Percy says to me, I give my thanks then look back at the sorting and it is Fred turn. As soon as the hat touches him he is put into Gryffindor and so is George.

Charlie come over to congratulate me and the twins, as we are jumping in joy we do not realize that Professor McGonagall rolls up her parchment and took the hat away.

Albus Dumbledore gets up to his feet and he beams at all the students, his arms opened wide as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said, the hall hushes down and we hurriedly find our seat.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!" He sat back down.

Is he a bit mad?" Fred askes Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes."

I ignore them and turn to the dishes in front of me, where they are now piled with food. It is quite the lovely feast I must say as there is: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

I know Dumbledore character well, his intentions are good, but he is manipulative and has much to be desired and I plan on not falling into his hands. The occlumency technique that my mother taught me is enough to defend myself and is much superior from the barbaric techniques everyone in the wizarding world has.

I finish my meal and desserts and Professor Dumbledore gets up again and tells us about the restricted areas to avoid.

We follow Charlie, who is the prefect, to the Gryffindor common room and he leads us to our rooms.

There I find my magical suitcase and Hedwig in her cage, too tired to talk we head to our bed, I make sure to do my channelling exercises and fell asleep.

c 18

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending.

And you could feel the magic pulsing through the whole castle, I dearly wished I could look at the Hogwarts castle with my third eye in all its glory, but I do not want to blind myself, a tough lesson that I learned when I looked at my mother with my third eye. You do not use your third eye on somebody who is far stronger than you or you will be blinded and for how long depends on how powerful the person you looked at.

It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either with directions. It was always a nasty shock when one of

them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick is always happy to point a new Gryffindor in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would

drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Me and twins managed to get on the wrong side of him on our very first morning. Filch found us trying to force our way through a door that unluckily turned out to be a door that was not really a door at all, but solid wall just pretending. He wouldn't believe that we were lost, he was sure that we were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock us in the dungeons when we were rescued by Hagrid, who was passing.

Filch is never alone, he owns a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature

with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than

anyone and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. Me and the twins started to hate the sqiub, and it was our dearest ambition of to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

I swear to myself that one day I will capture that cat then carry out horrible experiments on it, I think the cat noticed my intentions, so it decided to stay far away from me.

We have to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. I for one am a fan of star gazing even in my last life I was, I would love to get away from my foolish dad and step mom and look out into the sky for hours on end.

Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for. I did really great in that class and even handed out some tips I picked up over my years of raising magical plants to Professor Sprout and I was able to get my house 20 points for a job well done in that class.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Me and the twins use that time to catch up on other classes and chit-chat if we want.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk.

"Wands out everyone, today we will begin with floating the feather in front of you. You will have to use the floating charm so watch me carefully. -Wingardium Leviosa" Professor Flitwick shouted the chant and waved his wand as the feather started floating.

"You guys try it now." he said, and everyone started practicing the spell.

I know that I needed to shock the Professor Flitwick so that he would teach me dueling. I shouted the chant and waved the wand, the feather started floating up.

"Great job Mr. Lovegood, ten points to Gryffindor. Everyone did you just see Mr. Lovegood perform a great floating charm. If you do as he did, I am sure you will be able to do accomplish the same results as Mr. Lovegood" praised Professor Flitwick.

The twins and Lee where stuck with the charm, so I decided to help them out.

"Alright, think of yourself as a gust of wind trying to carry way some leaves. Now gently steer the feathers up until it lifts up."

As I continue to explain to the twins the other, the other students and Professor Flitwick listen.

After two tries, the twins are able to succeed, then Lee and more students who tried my method also succeeded. Professor Flitwick gives me a praised nod of approval.

c 19

After charm class was over Professor Flitwick asked me to stay back.

"I have to say, Mr. Lovegood, there has never been these many students in my class that were able to do the floating charm in the first class, you have my thanks for that. If I may, I will make sure to use your method in my floating charm class." Professor Flitwick says to me as he is using his wand absentmindedly to pick up all the feathers left on the desks.

"It is my pleasure to help my classmates, Professor Flitwick and it would be an honor for me if my method was to be taught to future students. I am sure anybody could figure it out all I did was relate mental images to magic." I say faking pure joy and humbleness.

"I am getting more and more impressed with you Mr. Lovegood, using mental images is a very high application of magic, mostly Aurors and us Professors, who mastered a branch of magic, use metal images when using magic," says Professor Flitwick nearly dancing in joy.

I know I have everything set up, I say "You over praise me Professor, I read about you after completing your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests in his seventh year, you graduated from Hogwarts and then proceeded to become a Master Duellist and earned the title of 'Duelling Champion' at some point, and you have a shelf full of trophies to prove it."

"Ha, those were the younger days," says Professor Flitwick with a reminiscing look.

I nod my head along with the Professor and ask, "I was wondering if you would want to teach us students dueling since you were so good at it, you could open a club and you could invite the other heads of the houses to also teach like professor Snape vs professor McGonagall."

Professor Flitwick slowly nods his head, "Yes a dueling club would be nice, but you kids are too young."

I try a deferent approach, "Professor, many students learn about all kinds of spells when they graduate Hogwarts but they cannot use it cohesively and many fall to dark wizards and dark creatures for that reason. The dueling club would fix that Professor."

"You are correct Mr. Lovegood let me think about it," says Professor Flitwick with a thoughtful face.

I see that I need to give the Professor one final push, so I say, "Professor Flitwick, many could have fought back from Voldemort evil domination if they know how to," although a low blow on my part, I need to learn how to correctly fight, on instinct for that matter, not waving my wand around like a fool.

Professor Flitwick shivers when I say that to him, "You are correct Mr. Lovegood, learning how to duel will save many students lives in the long run from dangerous forces, I will talk to Headmaster Dumbledore about opening a dueling club and I shall invite the heads of the houses to help."

I see that my goal is achieved so I say my goodbyes to Professor Flitwick and ran along to my other classes.

Professor McGonagall class was very different, she was not a teacher you want to cross, even the twins stay in line in her class and do not dare to pull a prank over her. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment we sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said.

"Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. We were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only I was able to turn my match into a needle and to show off a little I made it into a beautiful luxury needle, thanks to that I won 15 points. The twins were able to make some progress when I told them to imagine what they want with every detail and Professor McGonagall gave them five points for their partial work.

After class was over I stayed back so that I could strike up a conversation with Professor McGonagall about animagi.

"Professor McGonagall, I was reading an interesting book on animagi by a Native American wizard. He says you can skip all the complicated stuff: like putting a single leaf of a Mandrake plant in your in the mouth for one month, then putting that leaf in a crystal phial that receives pure moon rays, together with one of the your hairs, a silver teaspoonful of dew, and the chrysalis of a death's-head hawk moth. All those ingredients making a blood red potion, which is drunk after speaking the incantation 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus'."

Professor McGonagall raises her eyebrows at me and asks, "How would you go about becoming a animagi if you skip the steps needed?"

"That the thing Professor, the author said you do not need all that stuff, all you need is to find your inter-animal by being one with nature, then use the incantation 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus' then poof you can become animagi." This book was something I found in my mother's collection and with this method, I could save myself years, but I do not know the creditably of it and I do not want to end up as a half-human, half-animal, so the only person that I can run through with it is Professor McGonagall.

"This method is possible since all the blood red potion does is awakens your inter-animal, Native American wizards and witches are well known for their potionnering and animal magic, but what I do not understand is being in one with nature part," says Professor McGonagall.

I do, but there is no way I am sharing that, so I fake ignorance and say my goodbyes to Professor McGonagall and ran along to my next class.

c 20

Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but we caught every word just like Professor McGonagall, Snape had you caught every word and he also has the gift of keeping a class silent without much effort.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect that you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death, that is only if you aren't a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence follows after Professor Snape's speech even the twins are quite and not goofing around.

Snape then had us partner up to make a simple potion that cures boils, which I could do with my eyes closed at this point. He let the Slytherins choose who to partner up with but for us Gryffindors he choose our partners, so I was had to work with Angelina Johnson.

Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost every Gryffindor except me, since I was already finished with my potion. He gave me a nod of respect for my potioneering skills and even gave me some hints on how to improve my potion, which I thought was not possible, it seems like I could improve a lot more in potioneering.

As I was following Professor Snape's advice a cloud of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin, had somehow managed to melt his cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Adrian Pucey, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Professor Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Adrian Pucey whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat, then tells us to get back to work.

I could see some Gryffindor were about ready to jump up and shout favoritism and you should take 100 points from Slytherin, I shake my head to myself, what else could you expect from Snape, he does not what to break his disguise until Voldemort comes back.

Besides Snape and all, this is why I did not choose Slytherin for my house since it is filled with Purebloods who do not work towards anything and only rely on their family and half-bloods who wish they were Pureblood.

Then there is Ravenclaw, they do not make good allies (pawns) because it is filled with smart folk who do not see the point of sacrificing themselves and those who like to think they are smart, so they will not listen to me since they think they are smart and right.

No one will take me seriously if I was in Hufflepuff and I do not need to worry about them since they will jump off the bridge themselves if they see the crowd doing it.

Finally, there is Gryffindor, the perfect place to find followers and care out my plans with nobody being the wiser of it. This house is made of hotheaded fools and showoffs. All I need is to point them to the good old fight and they would be willing to sacrificing themselves, much better than the Ravenclaw who would recognize my true face and the Slytherin who would stab me in the back.

As I was climbing the steps out of the dungeon after potion class, the twins, Lee Jordon, Angelina Johnson, and a girl named Alicia Spinnet caught up to me.

"Well done mate, you were able to get a nod from Professor Snape, my brother Bill and Charlie said they never seen him even recognize a Gryffindor effort," said Fred to me.

"You know how it was, my mother had me do potions for years now," I said jokingly.

"Man you are good at potions and the same goes for all other classes, do you by chance want to study together at the library by any chance, I am not doing so great so far," asks Angelina Johnson with hope in her eyes.

"Yeah, sure I could meet all of you guys at the library on Saturday to study together," I say to them and they nod their heads in agreement. Anyways this could be a great chance for me, I could use them to test the animagus transformation method I found, written by the Native American wizard, and see if it works since I do not want to take any chances with it and end up as a half-human, half-animal state.

Lee Jordon reminds us that we have our flying class and we ran along to our very first flying lessons.

After our flying lessons I learn the sad truth of things, I have no talent in flying a broom, I could not even lift it up at all, the only thing my broom did was flop around like a dead fish. The twins joked around that maybe I am human after all.

It give my broom one last look, and I head back indoors.

c 21

"Hey, guys, you will not believe what I found," I say in a low whisper since we are in the school's library.

"What is it?" asks Fred.

"Do you guys remember how Professor McGonagall was able to transform into an animal in our first Transfiguration class that is called animagi. This book here shows you how to do that." I say faking amazement, but what my new friends do not know is that this was not indeed found in the school's library, but it was from me.

"No way, do you realize what that means, we can do follow the book and become animagi, we can transform into an animal," says Lee Jordon in amazement and glee.

"Wow, let me have a look at it," says Angelica with her hands out, and I gladly give it to her.

They all gather around Angelica with their heads leaning over her shoulder looking at what the book has to say.

"Where did you find this book, Caelum," asks George.

"It dropped out of the shelf I was looking through, it was hidden so deep and secretively, I think somebody hide it there," I say with a look of certainty like what I spoke is not else but the truth.

"Man, this amazing, if we follow these instructions we could become one of the few animagi in Britain, my dad told me there are only 7 registered animagi in the whole of Britain," said Fred.

"Yeah, but we better make sure to not get caught, especially by our head of house, Professor McGonagall, or else we might never be able to complete it," says Angelica with a worried face on.

Lee nods along with Angelica reasoning, "yeah let's put it back first since the process is easy to memorize."

"Okay, did you guys memorize it, all you have to do is be one with nature with that you will be able to find out what kind of animal you can transform to, then place the tip of your wand over your heart and speak the incantation 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus'. With that done you can become an animagi."

They all nod their heads and I pretend like I am going deep into the library, but I just went to a quiet place with no one around and put my book into a pouch, it was given to me by my mother and it has the extension charm.

I go run back to the place we were studying, and I heard Lee ask, "What does being one with nature mean anyway?"

"Yeah, we will not be able to become an animagi, if we do not know even understand the steps," says Fred.

"Is ain't it obvious to guys!" any avid reader of a wuxia novel knows being one with nature just means "MEDITATION."

I look at their faces and there is no realization, they all have a blank face, "You know when you cross your legs, close your eyes, and clear your mind."

"Why did you just say that," said George.

I sigh to myself, wizards and witches know nothing about muggle affairs, and the muggles continue to advance every day while the wizarding community is stuck in the middle ages.

Now that I am a wizard living in this world, my greatest fear is the speed at which the muggles continue to advance and one day in the future the muggles will learn about the existence of wizards and witches.

I read enough X-Men comic books to know what could happen in the struggle between us, wizards and witches, and muggles.

"Let's get back to the Gryffindor common room first then we can talk about more on animagi, I think the librarian Mrs. Irma Pince is looking over at us," said Fred and we all hurried along to the Gryffindor common room.

In the common room, we find a corner where it is difficult to hear what we are talking about. "Before we continue, we must all swear to secrecy," I say.

"I agree this is really important and Caelum could have kept it to himself, but he decided to share it with us, so I will do it, what about you twin," Fred is the first one to speak up then the others soon follow after him.

My heart warms a bit, at their quick loyalty to me, I will make sure to reward the twins well with helping the best I could with their future shop, I will make sure to get myself a good cut of the pie, I tell them to go to their rooms and meditate when we are already we shall use the incantation.

Although I am using them to test the method on the book, I am no fool, I do not want five half-human, half-animals running around, I am 90% sure this will work out since I am already in tune with nature and know what animal I shall become, I am just letting them go first to make sure everything will turn out okay and it is rewarding enough to let them all be able to become an animagi.

I go to my bed and start looking over the book my mother gave me on the different way of casting spells. The first one I want to get started on is Non-verbal casting, it is the easiest one to master of the other method of casting and it is good for catching your opponent unaware.

I take a piece of parchment and place it in front of me and do the floating charm but this time I do not say the chant out loud but in my mind, I waze my wand and the paper floats up slowly and shakily then I lose focus and it comes down by itself.

Man, I did not expect that to be so difficult, no wonder most adult wizards and witches can only use a few spells Non-verbally and only people that mastered a branch of magic like the professors here at Hogwarts have mastered Non-verbal casting.

c 22

Today, I am in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class right now, this year we have a competent teacher. Even so, I did not bother myself with remembering his name since he will be out, one way or another by the end of the school year.

So far, I have split Defense Against the Dark Arts into two parts to make things easier to understand, the first part is how to deal with dark creatures, and the second part is spells like Jinxes, Hexes, and Counter-Curses.

Us, first years are learning about X ranked magical creatures, which are boring since they cannot do anything to you at all, the only reason why I even try to learn about these creatures is that some of their parts could be used as ingredients in potions. The second thing we first years are learning is Jinxes, which for those of you who do not know is a branch of dark magic and it is the most harmless of that branch, that is why students are allowed to learn it at Hogwarts. Jinxes are mostly used for the amusement and they only cause minor discomfort of the victim.

We have been learning spells like; the Knockback Jinx, which knocks your opponent over, the Impediment Jinx, which temporarily slows your target, and the Jelly-Legs Jinx, which collapses your victim's legs.

The twins instantly fell in love with Jinxes and all semester they scoured the library for more Jinxes spells, I also joined them too and we learned Jinxes like; the Trip Jinx, which trips your victim causing them to fall, the Pimple Jinx, which makes boils erupt on your victim.

Armed with these spells me and the twins were able to up our game against Filch and cause him much trouble. I was even able to catch that dang cat, Mrs Norris, when she was outside by itself, with a powerful Jinx that I found in my mother's study called the Tempest Jinx, which strikes the target with lightning bolts. For a moment there, I thought I took it too far with the prank when the cat was all charred up and not moving at all, I hide right when Filch came through the gates leading outside.

"Where are you, Mrs. Norris?" calls Filch, as he looks around the grounds he sees her charred body lying on the ground and comes running to her.

"What happened to you girl," says Filch through violent sobs.

I sort of feel bad for the man, then I hear a weak meow.

"Oh, you are alive, let me get you to Madam Pomfrey," says Filch with relief and runs along with the cat in his arms to the school's healer.

I also let out a sigh of relief, and promise to myself not to try out dangerous spells until I leave Hogwarts so I do not end up expelled.

After that incident of nearly killing Mrs Norris, I take a break from making trouble for Filch and get back to practicing Non-verbal casting and working on my school work, but it seems like I cannot avoid trouble.

One day, Filch caught up to me in hallways as I was going to the library to study.

"The other teachers and Dumbledore may think it was just a random lightning bolt that struck Mrs Norris, but Mrs Norris told me it was you who did that to her. You did well to not leave any evidence, boy, but I am watching you and as soon as you slip up I will make sure you get expelled," says Filch with a vicious snarl plastered up against his face.

"What you are doing up agais't the studant, Filch," came a booming voice.

I turn away from Filch and look at the direction the voice came from and I am greeted with the sight of a giant man walking toward us.

"I was just giving this student a warning, Hagrid," says Filch and he gives me one last vicious look and walks away.

"You a'lright, ah.. you are that Lovegood boy right, who's good the'm potions and all," says Hagrid to me.

"Yes, and you must be the Keeper of Keys and Grounds, Rubeus Hagrid," I say back to him and hold out my hand, which I instantly regret as Hagrid shakes my hand and nearly tore it off.

"I was wondering if you can help me by making som'e potions for the magical creatures, I do not want to bother the Professors and what not," Hagrid said to me with hope in his eyes.

This is a great opportunity, I wanted to meet with Hagrid for a while now and talk to him about magical creatures, but I had no idea how to approach him, now I can.

"Yeah, sure I could make you loads of potions, but I need ingredients to make it," I say with a look of sadness on my face.

"I could help yo'u with that if you want," says Hagrid with reluctance.

"How?" I say with curiosity on my face, but I already know how.

"There are loads of them magical creatures in the forest, I could get you the ingredients you need," Hagrid answers back.

I fack a sigh of relief, but inside I am delighted, the Forbidden Forest is a very old place that houses many magical creatures, some dark and dangerous, others friendly. With Hagrid's help, who is the only person that has a clue about the Forbidden Forest, I could get my hands-on ingredients that I could only dream of and take my potionnering to greater heights.

"That could work out, here some potions during the meantime," I take out some potions in my pouch and give it to Hagrid. "Let's meet on the weekends at your hut so I can tell you the ingredients to look out for, how does that sound."

Hagrid nods his head and says to me, "Until next time," and walks away, I also leave make my way to the library.

c 23

It is nearly Halloween and all five of my Gryffindor classmates are finally finished meditating and where all able to figure out the animal they will transform into.

It is the weekends and right now we are in an empty classroom sitting all in a circle.

"Who wants to go first," asks Lee jokingly but you could tell he is a bit nervous.

I look at all of them and they are nervous one degree or another so to get back their nerves I say, " Chin up, come on all of you, after we do this, we will be the youngest people to have become an animagi in Britain wizarding community, and there is nothing to fear, I already talked to Professor McGonagall about this method and it should work. Anyways are you going to all chicken out after we did all that work, if you are then are you guys even really supposed to be in Gryffindor and not Slytherin."

That got a chuckle from all of them especially the twins, "I am no Slytherin, what about you twin," says George.

Fred put on a shocked face, " The audacity twin, how could you think so little of me, I am ready to do this, what about you?"

"I am already starting what about you?" says George as he places the tip of his wand over his heart, Fred snorts and also places the tip of his wand over his heart, then at the same time the twins speak the incantation out loud 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus'.

We all hold our breaths back, but nothing happens for a while.

"I think this method you found, Caelum is not working," said Fred and George nods his head to that too then all a sudden they let out a yelp of pain, grab their chest, and bend over.

"What is... happening Caelum," asks George through shuddering breaths.

"Are they alright, should I call a Professor," says Alicia Spinnet with a shaky voice.

"Calm down, all of you, Fred, George do you feel intense pain?" I ask

"Is aint that obvious... Caelum" said Fred.

"Good, do you feel a second heartbeat?" I ask with joy in my eyes.

"Yes.. and my eyesight is changing," says George.

"How is that good," asks Lee with a hint of anger in his voice.

"That means it is working, look," I say.

At that moment the twins are changing, becoming smaller, black fur popping up all over their body, and growing a tail.

"Fred, George it is important that you both do not resist the change or panic, as the animal might mind may take over if you do," I say to the twins and they both stop shaking about.

"ohahaha" said Fred and George, they have become two black-furred monkeys and if my guess is right they have both become spider monkeys.

"You guys did it, how do you feel," I ask them both.

The twins try to talk but all I could hear is screams and chatters, so they use their hands to try and talk to us.

I still do not understand them so I say, "Transform back, you can do that by visualizing your human form in your minds then you can tell us how it felt."

The two monkeys nod their heads and close their eyes after a while you can see them slowly changing as they get bigger, the black fur disappears, and the tail shrinks until it does not exist anymore.

The first thing the twins said at the same time after transforming back, "Wow, that was amazing."

"You look alright, do you feel alright," asks Alicia Spinnet.

"Man that was cool, you are an animagi now," says Lee with awe in his voice.

"It was quite exhausting but other than that it was amazing," says Fred and George nods his head at that.

I let out a sigh of relief, it seems like the twins are alright, I see no mutations, so the method must work like a charm.

I cannot hold myself back anymore, I say, "It seems like the method worked and the both of you are alright, so I will go next."

The twins nod their heads and say, "Good luck."

I get myself in a comfortable position by crossing my legs then I place the tip of my wand over my heart, then I speak the incantation out loud 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus'.

All of a sudden, I feel intense pain but I just clench my teeth and fist, then I hear a second heartbeat. I do not resist as I feel myself changing, my eyesight becomes better and glows in the dark empty classroom we are inside, white fur with black stripes starts popping up all over my body, I feel a tail start growing up above my butt, and I get on all fours as my transformation is complete.

I hear the twins shout in amazement, "You have transformed into a white tiger."

I try to take a look at myself but end up looking like I am chasing my tail like a dog.

I feel exhausted after keeping my transformation, so I close my eyes and visualize my human form in my mind and feel myself untransform, my tail slowly disappears, my white fur grows back in, and I get up from the floor as the transformation is done.

"Let me try next," says Lee with expectation in his voice and he does, at the end Lee becomes a tarantula.

Alicia Spinnet goes after Lee and transforms into a Scottish Fold cat, then finally Angelina Johnson goes, and she becomes a Turkish Angora cat.

"Alright, we have to keep this a secret, for now, we can report it to the Ministry is you want when you are older. This method of becoming an animagi is our secret, okay." I say, they all nod their heads at that.

"Good I have to go now, see you guys later," I say

"Are you going to Hagrid's hut again?" asks George, I nod my head and head out of the room.

c 24

I knock at the giant door of Hagrid's Hut, behind the door, I hear a dog bark and a booming voice come said, "I am coming, hol'd on for a sec." As I am waiting I look around and see a crossbow and a pair of galoshes outside the front door, must be Hagrid's equipment for going into the Forbidden Forest.

The door opens, and Hagrid face pops out from behind it, "Oh, it is you Caelum, come in" Hagrid said with his giant hand waving me to come inside.

I have been going to Hagrid's Hut on the weekends ever since we meet in the hallways during my first month in Hogwarts.

"Back, Fang," Hagrid said to the massive black dog that was blocking the entryway. Hagrid was able to move the dog by the collar and I was able to come inside Hagrid's house. There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who tries to bound straight at me but I gave him one stare and say in a low voice that only he can hear, "Did you already forget what happened last time you tried to tackle me."

The first time I came to Hagrid's Hut, Fang tried to tackle me to the ground and lick me, but I thought it was a dark creature from the Forbidden Forest trying to kill so I used the most powerful spell I know so far, the Tempest Jinx, the same one I used on Mrs Norris.

Fang comes to a sudden stop and a look of remembrances crosses his face, that is what it seems to me on his dog face, and he runs behind Hagrid. Like Hagrid, Fang is clearly not as fierce as he looks.

"I do not know how you do that but anyone that comes near this Hut, he always tackles them to the ground and starts licking their face," Hagrid says as he pours boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

I give an awkward chuckle, "No idea," I say but I am just glad that Fang has good magical resistance.

Hagrid places some rock cakes in from of me, which look like shapeless lumps with raisins on it, I give my thanks to Hagrid, but I do not even dare to entertain the idea of putting one in my mouth since I learned the hard way that these things can break any men's teeth.

I make light conversation with Hagrid about my classes, school work, and teachers then Hagrid talks about the magical creatures he deals with and I listen up to and make sure to take everything in he says. People tend to have the wrong view about Hagrid most of the time and think he is just a lumbering idiot but if anything he is the opposite, the thing Hagrid excels at is magical creatures, his method are way ahead of anything found in books and I would even go as far to say he is the best magizoologist in Europe.

"Anyways Hagrid I was reading some diary entries from wizards and witches that travelled the world and went to some unexplored places and the thing I found in these diary entries is that they think that magical creatures above rank XXXXX exist, what do you think about that?" I ask the question that I have been burning to found out about.

I may not show it, with being calm, collected, and what not, but there is still that little boy in me and what could not awaken it any more than finding out of hidden powerful magical creatures no one knows about.

Hagrid drops the teacup he has in his hand as soon as he hears my question and freezes, then as quick as that he remembers himself and picks up the broken teacup from the floor and grabs a rag to clean up the mess, "I know nothi'ng of those creatures in the Forbidden Forest," Hagrid says.

I shack my head, Hagrid is not the best of liars, "I never that those magical creatures were in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid."

Hagrid looks at me for a while and sighs then he says, "You, Caelum are awfully clever, anyways I never told anyone this not even Dumbledore, so do not go running around telling everyone what I tell you, okay?" I nod my head and skoote my chair closer to Hagrid's.

"Even if you do tell anyone, no one will believe for that matter since I never really saw them, just glances or clues of them. Right as you know the Forbidden Forest is massive with all kinds of magical creatures, nobody knows all its secrets about, including me and I have been wandering it for years now, I think not even Dumbledore knows all the secrets that forest holds." Hagrid takes a pause to wipe away Fang's drool from his coat and continues on,

"So one day, I went to see a friend of mine that lives in the Forbidden Forest, that was when I saw it, a white tail as massive as a hill and as soon as that it disappeared into a giant cave as wide as Hogwarts. There was this other time I found flames that where burning corpses of powerful magical creatures and I tried to burn it out so that it does not spread but no amount of water could even smiter it. Another time I saw some dead trees, yes, deader than they usually are and in the middle of those trees was a single massive black feather. Finally, I saw a hole so wide and deep, I throw many rocks in it and for hours I did not hear it hit the ground and around the hole was golden furs and claw marks, so something must have dug that hole."

c 25

The only thing that escapes my mouth is "Wow."

Hagrid nods his head at that, "I know, hard to believe right, so to answer your question, yes I do believe magical creatures above the rank XXXXX exist. Anyways here are the ingredients that you needed; 3 pints of Acromantula Venom, a few of those white flowers you wanted, 2 Bezoar, a Billywig Sting, a Boomslang skin, a Graphorn horn, some Unicorn hair, and a Griffin claw."

I awaken from my shock and my face changes into a smile and I wipe away the drool, these are very rare potions ingredients that people could kill for like; Acromantula Venom could go for 100 Gold Galleons a pint, that white flower is called Asphodel which could be used in the Draught of Living Death and the Wiggenweld Potion, Bezoar acts as an antidote to most poisons, Billywig Sting could make a person float, a Boomslang skin is used in Polyjuice Potion, Unicorn hair could be used in all kinds of potions, a Graphorn horn is very expensive, and a Griffin claw is used in the Strengthening Solution.

"Thanks, Hagrid, I have a few healing potions that are brewing right now, I will bring it to you tomorrow, and do you want me to brew any other potions for you next week?" I ask

"No, I am will be good for a while with all the potions you gave the past weeks," says Hagrid nodding his head.

I take all the ingredients of Hagrid's hand and put them into my magical pouch and say my goodbyes to Hagrid then I head out.

Early in the morning, I am carrying out my meditation technique, that my mother taught me, then I feel the boundary that I can see with my Third Eye increase to 12 meters all around me and that it also feels like it is sort of elevated, so I awaken it and have a good look around. Before when I used my Third Eye I could only see the amount of natural energy in my body and for other people, I would only see a blur even if they were a muggle or child wizard, but now that I look at Fred, who shares a dorm with me, I can see the amount of natural energy he has in his body, which is 10 units nearly breaking through level 2, at that moment I feel excited since I know what this means.

Before I went to Hogwarts my mother filled me in with a lot of stuff, one of them was about my Third Eye.

[Flashback]

"You must be wondering why I don't want you to teach anyone how to awaken their Third Eye, correct?" my mother says with a smirk on her face.

I nod my head, when my mom told me to keep it to myself, I never really saw the point in keeping it a secret since all it really does for you is keep track of your power level.

"That is because you do not know the full extent of the Third Eye."

"Wait, there is more to this Third Eye stuff?" I ask.

"Yes, what you touched upon is just Level 1 and Level 2 of the Third Eye, they both come together but to differentiate they are divided, so as you can guess Level 1 is when you can see the natural energy in the environment, level 2 is when you can see the natural energy in yourself, and where I come from the method to awaken your Third Eye is available everywhere and anyone could awaken it if they decide to put time into meditating," My mother said.

"You just reiterated my worry, but anyways I do not care about that, I am not the grandpa of all those wizards and witches so even if it is meniscal I am not going to hand it out for free, also I know those wizards and witches are not going to grateful but would want to know more, it is human nature. They will start to ask each other how a small-time wizarding family with no history know this and instead of being grateful and praising us they would use dirty methods to force everything out of us," I said or at least that is what I would do.

My mother smiles and rubs my head playfully then says, "I have to say I am proud of you for putting that together, but no that is not the reason why I told you not to tell anyone, if I wanted to I could spread the word but like you said I am not their grandpa."

"There is much to the Third Eye then these two levels, the reason why I wanted you to hide it, is related to your grandfather, if you ever run into his enemies I do not want them to recognize you," my mother says with a sigh and a look of sadness, I want to ask but I do not since every time I do ask my mother about her past and family she does not even say a word to me and I know the only reason why my mother would keep it secret is to keep me safe. Over time I stopped asking and put more and more effort into my magic since with only strength I can remain untethered.

"Your grandfather a genius and further developed the Third Eye and added 4 more levels, the 3rd level allows you to see the natural energy in other people meaning that you would have an idea of how powerful your enemies are, the 4th level allows you to see the natural energy in all objects and materials meaning you can recognize the value of any object, the 5th level allows you to see the spell model of anything cast near you meaning you can understand and copy that spell, and the last level, the 6th level, this level is random to everyone you practices this technique, it could be very weak like seeing the heat signature or it could be powerful like your grandfather, he was able to see nearly all possible futures with some accuracy and clarity."


	2. c 26-57

c 26

"Your grandfather was able to see nearly all possible futures with some accuracy and clarity."

Dang, I think to myself, what is my grandpa a God?

[Present]

I get out of my bed and I cannot wait to go around the school and look at how powerful all the students in each grade are, also if I can I would want to have a look at how powerful the teachers, but first I have to get Hagrid's potions ready.

I freshen up then I go to my suitcase which is beside my bed and open it up, I think to myself that I really need to upgrade it, then go inside it.

Inside the suitcase, there is a piece a land as big as an island, in the middle of the land there is a cosy house, which has 3 floors, the first floor has a lounge and a lab that takes up the rest of the floor, the second floor is an attic that has a bed, a desk, and a few bookcases filled with books, and the basement is dark and dank with cages of all sizes, these are not just ordinary cages but ones filled with all matter of powerful wards. Surrounding the house is a magical garden made up of all matter of strange and fascinating flowers and trees.

I land inside and run to the house my mother made me and rush to my lab, I enter and see that everything is in order and the potions are coming along well, I make some final adjustments to them then I take out the ingredients Hagrid gave me and store them away on the shelves in my lab, I go back to my potions and see that they are done so I pour them into the flasks I have on hand, after that I clean up my lab and head out with the potions Hagrid needs.

I have breakfast then I head to Hagrid's house, but I run into him near the great lake, there I give him the potions he needs and head off to look at how powerful all the students in each grade are, also if I can I would want to have a look at how powerful the teachers.

I wandering the school, have a good look at my classmates' strength, the first years, and I must say I am pretty disappointed, most of them are at level 1, with the twins at the lead, I guess it is because I showed them some of the stuff I learned from my mother like potions and spell theories.

I sight to myself, what do all these snotty purebloods and good for nothing half-bloods do all their life before they come to Hogwarts, most muggle-born wizards and witches tie them in strength.

I look around and find out that the second years and third years on average are in level 2, the fourth years and the fifth years are in level 3, so I that means I have the same amount of power as them but just not the same amount of spells to back it up, I have a hard time seeing how strong the sixth years and seventh years, but at the end I was able to see that they where in level 4.

After wandering the school and checking how powerful all the students in each grade are, I fell glad that I now have a clear idea of where I am at and how much work I have yet to do. Right now I do have the same amount of energy as the fourth years but that does not matter since all I can do with it is last longer in a fight.

I contemplate the issue that is, why my natural energy is not increasing for a long time, and the answer has cleared up for me, I do not have the power to back my energy up, under my mother's tutelage I learned the ideas and theories behind Charms, Transfiguration, and The Dark Arts, that includes jinxes, hexes, and curses, but no spells and that is holding back.

As I walk down the thinking to myself, I see Professor Flitwick walking down the hallways and I have the urge to sneak a peek at his strength, I mentally argue the risk and rewards, in the end I give in since I want to have an idea the Professor's strength and get a general idea of Voldemort and Dumbledore strength.

I open my Third Eye just a squint and look at Professor Flitwick, all I see is a blur when I look at nonchalant and as if he felt me looking at him Professor Flitwick turns around and I hurriedly close my Third Eye and act nonchalant.

"Caelum, my boy what are you doing wandering around?" asks Professor Flitwick

"Oh, hello Professor Flitwick, it is good to see you out and about, I was just off to the library to get started on practicing next week materials," I say with a straight face.

Professor Flitwick nods his head and says, "It good to see a student getting ready for future materials, but where is your books?"

I now just noticed I have nothing on hand except my wand, I think I just kicked myself.

"Haha, Mr Caelum do you know how many students try each year to spy on me to get the answers to the test, anyways I know why you where spying on me," Professor Flitwick says.

"You do I ask," paniced stricken.

"Yes, you are wondering about the duelling club, I know you will do very well when it comes to your end of the year test, so the only reason why you would spy on me is because of the duelling club."

I nod my head at that and let the man believe what he wants.

"Well, I have good news and bad news, which one do you want to hear first."

c 27

"Well, I have good news and bad news about the dueling club, which one do you want to hear first," asks Professor Flitwick.

"The good news, I guess," I say.

"Well, the good news is that the Headmaster has allowed me to start the dueling club, so we will be starting right after the Christmas holiday also Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape," said Professor Flitwick with a smile on his face.

"So what is bad news you are talking about since the dueling club will be opened," I ask with a questioning look on my face.

Professor Flitwick sighs, "sorry Mr Lovegood, I know how hard you worked to get this club started but you cannot go to it this year, all first cannot enter the dueling club."

I try to sway Professor Flitwick, but he does not give in and says, "first years do not know that many spells and can easily hurt each other even if we taught them useful spells since they still need to learn the basic."

Professor Flitwick walks away, and I am left standing there by myself, in my head I am cursing the stupid rules and want to shout out to Professor Flitwick that I am not a child that cannot take care of himself and if anybody is worthy of learning anything it should be me since I am 27 years old.

I walk back to the Gryffindor common room dejectedly, sighing to myself I think what else could I do then to wait half a year, but if I stop and look at it from an optimistic point of view it's not so bad since I was able to get Professor Flitwick, the duelling champion, to teach us and I have six years with him, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape, who are powerful wizards and witches in their own rights.

Anyways I will be having my mother over the Christmas holiday and the summer break teaching me much more other stuff.

Time passes, and the Christmas holiday is fast approaching and the first term will be over before we go on our Christmas holiday.

With the first term drawing near to an end our Professors decide to load us full with homeworks and all day you would see no one messing around or taking it easy.

Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration have become my favorite classes and my strong points when it comes to magic. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, we have learned many Jinxes and I have come across summaries of powerful hexes and curse and I cannot wait to learn them, so far in Defense Against the Dark Arts, we have spells like; the Knockback Jinx, the Impediment Jinx, and the Jelly-Legs Jinx. The twins instantly fell in love with Jinxes and all term they scoured the library for more Jinxes spells, I also joined them too and we learned Jinxes like; the Trip Jinx, the Pimple Jinx, and I also was able to teach myself the Tempest Jinx.

In my Transfiguration class, we learned a few Transformation spells; like the match to a needle that we learned in the first week, then the stick to torch, and glass to mirror. All basic stuff but as the years go by we will learn more and more advance Transformation spells like furniture to animals and humans to animals. In our second year, we will learn how to Untransfigurate the second main branch of Transfiguration, then in our fifth year we will learn Vanishment the third main branch of Transfiguration, and finally, we will learn Conjuration in our sixth and seventh the fourth main branch of Transfiguration.

Charms is very useful, but it takes a lot of discipline and practice to get it down, unlike Transfiguration where you need visualization to use it. In Charms we learned spells like the Levitation Charm we learned in the first week, the Wand-Lighting Charm which produces light at the tip of your wand, the Unlocking Charm which unlocks and opens doors, windows and objects that are not protected by magic, and the Softening Charm which softens a targeted area or object, making it rubbery and bouncy.

Potions have been a breeze for me so far since I already make the potions with my eyes closed, so far we have covered the Antidote to Common Poisons which is a potion that counteracts ordinary poisons, and the Cure for Boils which we covered first in class, on my free time that I could squeeze in I have been working on the Polyjuice Potion in my lab, this is a potion that allows the drinker to assume the form of someone else after a failure at it I now believe I have perfected it and can produce a few more this year.

Then there is History of Magic which is taught by Professor Binns whose class is regarded by every student at Hogwarts as some of the most boring, I surely have no idea he does it, making history about goblin movements, giants wars, wizarding battles, amazing witches and wizards, and different wizarding communities boring. Anyways I do most of the learning about the History of Magic by myself in the library, in class me and the twins spend most of the time chatting and planning some pranks to do, and we even have gone as far as to have duels in the back of the class when we heard the dueling club will not allow first years to enter and while we are doing that Professor Binns continues to go on and on not even noticing us.

My other classes go well and with that, the term ends, and the Christmas Holiday just begin.

c 28

A cute little boy, with bright golden hair and shining silver eyes that can pierce through your very soul, a calm expression plasterer his face, and you cannot help yourself wanting to pinch his cheeks stepped off the train, the Hogwarts Express.

That boy is me, every time I remember my predicament I cannot help myself feeling exacerbated I look like a little doll that you cannot help but cuddle up with. I still remember my run-in with upper classmate girls that would pinch my cheek or always call me cute.

It finally that time, the Christmas Holidays, mostly everyone is going to their homes to celebrate including me.

I look around the train station and I my eyes locked on to a woman with the exact same hair color and eyes color as me with stunning looks, it's my mother, Pandora Lovegood. Next to her is a man with dirty blond hair, slightly crossed eyed, but still he looks good with his bright suit, it is my father, Xenophilius Lovegood. Holding my father's hand, is a little girl with dirty blond hair, silver eyes, happily waving me over, it's my sister Luna Lovegood.

Smiling I pick up my suitcase and owl cage with Hedwig inside it, then walk over to them.

"Brother, how was Hogwarts like," my sister asks as soon as she sees me.

I smile, "Didn't I tell you all about it in the letters I wrote to you?"

My sister pouts and says, "I want you to tell me all about it yourself!"

I nod my head, "Okay, brother will tell you all about it," I say as I rub her head.

My mother comes over and pinches my cheek, which I don't mind since hey she is my mother, "So, how was school?" my mother asks me, I guess to make short conversation.

"It was good, and I learned some new spell," I reply, compared to Harry Potter's years at Hogwarts, with all matter of trouble popping up for him, mine was pretty smooth and there is not much to talk about.

"What was your favorite subjects so far," my mother asks with a curious expression on her face.

I answer that in a heartbeat, "Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Why is that?" asks Luna with curiosity.

"It is because in Transfiguration you can bend anything you desire through only your will and imagination, even reality if you are powerful enough, and in Defense Against the Dark Arts you learn all types of spells that can do different degrees of damage to your opponent," I say with a look of distant longing since I cannot wait to master it.

"Wow, when I go to Hogwarts those two subjects are going to be my favorite too," says my sister, who is willing to follow and do anything I do as well.

"Okay stop filling your sisters head with what you like, she can make her own decisions of what she like when she goes to Hogwarts." my mother says

At that moment eight red heads make their way to us, the plump older woman among them speaks to my mother, "How are you doing Pandora?"

"I am doing well, Molly, how are the children and Arthur as well, I see that he is not with you."

"He got caught up at work in the Ministry, so he could not make it," replies Mrs. Weasley

I turn to the twins as my mother and Mrs. Weasley continue to talk to each other and ask, "What do you guys plan on doing during the Holidays?"

Before the twins could answer Ron Weasley speaks up, "Not much really."

I look at him with a questioning look and before I can say anything to him, one of the twins speak up, "You may not be doing much, but us, on the other hand, have much planned, right twin."

"Yes, much to do and much more to plan," says the other twin.

I raise my eyebrow and ask with a curious tone, "What do you guys have planned?"

The twins come closer to me and Ron stretches his neck to try and listen in, but I do not think he caught much since the twins spoke burly under a whisper, "One of our sources told us that if we want to up our game, go to Filch's Office, in one of the many cabinets found in Filch's Office there is one full of confiscated magic items marked 'Confiscated and Highly Dangerous' there you can find many good items that can help you in your endeavor."

I roll my eyes and say, "The only source we have is Peeves, and he only helps us because he pitied us."

"Hey, he saw potential in us," the twins said at the same time.

As we are carrying on our conversation Bill comes over to us and asks with a smile on his face, "Are the three of you up to misfit again."

All we give as an answer is a grin, I turn to Bill and ask, "How is it working at Gringotts Bank as a Curse Breaker."

Bill sighs "I am mostly working on paper work, but my chance will come."

Mrs. Weasley voice brings us out of our conversation, "Come on let's go."

I look over and it seems Mrs. Weasley and mother's conversation is over, Ginny and Luna who were talking to each other say their goodbyes, Charlie and Percy discussion end, and I say my farewells to the Weasleys and as they head out Mrs. Weasley says to my mother, "See you on Christmas for dinner, take care."

I look at my mother, "So are we going to the Weasleys for dinner on Christmas?"

"Yes, do not worry we have plenty of times to cover arithmancy, ancient runes, and alchemy."

c 29

Today was Christmas, I woke up early in the morning and went down to the living room after freshening up.

I saw that there was nobody in the living room, I guess I am the first one to wake up, I looked at all the gifts laid down under the Christmas tree it seems like this year I received a lot more than what I usually get each year, must be because of the Gryffindor friends I made and the people that I got acquainted with.

I opened the first present that I laid my eyes upon which was from the twins, inside the box was some chocolate frog, which I appreciate since their family cannot afford any more than that.

Back at the twins' home, they opened their gift from me and inside it was Dungbomb from Zonko's Joke Shop. I sent them these gifts to get them started on working on the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

The second gift I open was from Lee Jorden, who sent me a book on Quidditch called 'Quidditch Through the Ages', must be the same book Harry Potter got I mused to myself, I look inside the gift book and see that there is a note inside.

Dear Caelum,

I know that you suck when it comes to flying, but here is a book that will tell you all about it.

From your caring Friend!

I snort, that bastard means to insult me, good thing I only sent him spider pet food.

The next gift I got was from Alicia Spinnet, who sent me a scarf that is colored gold and red with an image of a lion roaring. What a nice gift I think to myself, maybe I should have sent her a better gift.

Back at Alicia Spinnet house, she went downstairs to her families' living room and opened the gift Caelum sent her, it was a book on potions since she was the one to come up with the idea of studying together on potions and the book is called 'The Basic to Brewing.'

Which I found was an interesting read since it talks about the most important things in potions that many people overlook like how to stir correctly, how the age of the magical plant matters, how to correctly prepare your ingredients, and much more. I have no idea why more people do not read it, but it is this book in my opinion that makes a great potion master.

After seeing the gift Caelum sent her, Alicia Spinnet felt happy inside that Caelum sent her something and hoped that he like the gift she sent him.

The other gift was from Angelina Johnson who sent me a homemade chocolate cake which tasted pretty good, I decided to save it for later. I also sent Angelina Johnson a Christmas gift, some beauty products from Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions.

The next Christmas gift I open is from Hagrid who sent me of his rock-hard food, I immediately throw it away since I do not want all my teeth to fall off, I sigh to myself and feel good since I sent Hagrid those cooking books for his Christmas gift, maybe after a while his cooking skills will become better.

I open the gift from Mrs. Weasley which is a knitted sweater like always and there is a note attached to it saying wear it to dinner.

The other gift is from my sister Luna, who gave me some sweets like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frog, and Fizzing Whizzbees. I also sent her a lot of sweets since throughout the whole year we give each other gifts and in Christmas we like to keep it simple.

I finally open the last two gifts which are from my mother and father, who also like to make the tradition of gift giving in Christmas simple as well. They both gave me a total of 100 Gold Galleons for my Christmas gift to send on whatever I want.

At that moment my sister comes down and opens the gifts she got from me, mother, father, and the only friend she made so far Ginny Weasley.

I look around the Christmas tree and see that my mother only has gifts from the Famel couple if you do not include the gifts from us, it seems like her family do not celebrate Christmas.

I look at the gifts that father got this year and it is a big improvement, you can see all matter of different box sizes laying all around the tree and the name tag states my father. It must be all the newspaper readers I think to myself, he sure did get a lot more subscribers.

My mother comes down at that moment and asks if we want to help in the kitchen with preparing for the dinner meal we have planned with the Weasley family. My little sister happily jumps at the idea and I decided to join as well since I want to give myself a short break from experimenting and learning new spells.

My father comes down while we were in the kitchen preparing food then went to his study after getting a bit for breakfast, we joined him as well for breakfast after nearly forgetting about it in all the rush of preparing.

Dinner with the Weasleys was a pleasant event, the food was great, and the atmosphere was light and joyful. The adults kept to their conversation, Mr Weasley and my father talked about their work and other wizarding families, my mother and Mrs Weasly talked about mother stuff.

Me and the twins talked about how to sneak into Flinch's office, Ginny and Luna kept to themselves, the three eldest Weasly's talked among themselves, and Ron was left to his own devices.

Dinner went and desserts came and everyone enjoyed it after sitting around for a while me and my family said our goodbyes to the Weasley family and thanked them for hosting us after that we left and made our way home.

c 30

I knocked on my mother door to her study room, after a bit, a reply came in, telling me to come inside.

I grabbed the handle and open the door, inside was my mother sitting at her desk with piles and piles of parchments and on those parchments were equations and formula that I have no clue what they mean.

I sit down across from my mother who is focused on the parchments before her, I clear my throat to try to get my mother's attention and it works.

My mother looks away from her parchments, then her eyes settle down on me and she says, "Give me one moment sweetie and then we shall begin our lessons."

I nod my head and my mother gets back to the parchments in front of her, as she is working I try to understand what she is doing by looking at all those weird formula and equations on the parchments, I keep on looking and it kind of looks like Muggle math but somehow different.

After a while my mother finishes up her work and I look away from it since I started to get a headache from looking at it.

My mother organizes her parchments then turn to me and says, "Thanks for being patient for me."

I look at my mother then ask the burning question I had, "What were you doing and what were those equations and formula?"

My mother raises her eyebrow, "Oh these are just how you craft spells and this quote on quote equations and formula are Arithmancy."

I nod my head in understanding but there is still some stuff I am confused about, and I guess my mother saw that, so she continued talking, "What you must understand is that in the wizarding world there are 7 types of spells, I know that you already know but just humor me."

I start listing of the types of spells I learned so far, "There are Jinxes, Hexes, and Curses, those 3 fall under the dark arts then there is the other 4 which are Transfiguration, Charms, Counter-spells, and Healing spells.

My mother nods her head with a smile on her face, "Good, here is a tricky question, what does potion fall under?"

I scratch my head, now that is a tricky question.

After a while of silents, my mother speaks up, "I know it's a tough question but with a bit of thinking on your part, you can get but I do not want to waste any time so I will tell you, Potions will fall under the profession category because you can make a career out of it. What else do you think will fall under the profession category, Caelum?"

I think for a while upon the question my mother put forward to me, then my mind wanders for a bit thinking about how my mother teaches me, she always wants me to figure it out and not tell me.

My mind snaps back and I have an answer at the top of my head, "Does Spell Crafting fall under the profession category?"

My mother nods her head and you can see the smile on her face, she pinches my cheek then says, "My little sweetie pie is becoming more and more intelligent."

I complain a bit of being treated like a baby but if you look at the smile on my face you would think that I feel the opposite.

"There is one more profession you are missing it is the making of magical items. So, all in all, there is 3 types of profession and they focus on making, Potions, Spell Crafting, and Magical Items. To work with these three you must the components that come with it, meaning in Potions you must understand the properties and uses of magical plants and magical creatures. For Spell Crafting you must understand Arithmancy. For Magical Items you have to understand Ancient Runes and Alchemy."

I nod my head along as my mother gives me a massive info dump.

My mother continues on talking, "Since your Christmas Holiday is very short I will teach you the basic, during the summer we can go more into depth."

"First thing is Potions, Magical Plants, and Magical Creatures which you already know about, then there is Spell Crafting and Arithmancy, so first thing first, what is Arithmancy?"

"Those formulas and equations must be Arithmancy," I say.

My mother shakes her head, "You are not getting the full picture but looking at things from small very small perspective, Arithmancy is a method that helps you divines numbers and equations, what I was working on is a very advance form of Arithmancy, one that you will not touch for years to come. It can help you divine the future but it very sloppy and some times incorrect, it would be much better if you used the stars to divine the future. Anyways as I was saying Arithmancy is very helpful when it comes to Spell Crafting since you can pop in the equation you need."

I muse to myself, so Arithmancy is basically a magical calculator.

My mother goes on talking, "Then there is how to make magical items, which takes Alchemy and Ancient Runes to do. Ancient Runes is the study of magical languages, Ancient Runes are magically powers syllables and they are what make magical items work. Alchemy on the other hand work with magical minerals and gems, it is the study of producing objects of power with Ancient Runes you can purpose those objects. One example I can give that comes to the top of my head is the Gryffindor Sword, a well known magical item that was made my the goblins, who are masters at making magical items, the sword was made from pure silver and rubies then it was powered by the goblins' Ancient Runes."

Again I notice another simalerity, Alchemy is like making the computer and Ancient Runes is programming it to work.

c 31

In a few days, I will be going back to Hogwarts, so before that I want to at least learn something about Spell Crafting or Magical Items. I know that it takes a long time for you to even touch upon those two professions, it took me years of study to be where I am at potions, and even before I can touch upon those two fields I need to learn much more about Arithmancy, Alchemy, and Ancient Runes but I cannot hold myself back from the allure that these two fields hold and I want to learn at least one trick from these two new fields that have opened up for me before I head to Hogwarts.

So here I am standing in front of my mother's study room right now, I knock lightly on the door after a bit my mother voice comes through from the other side telling me to come inside.

I grab the door handle and slowly turn it letting the door flew wide open with a slight push on my part. Inside the study with all sorts of strange books with a slight magical pulse on the shelves is my mother at her desk, right in the middle of the room.

I give my greetings to my mother than sit right across her.

My mother turns away from her parchments then looks at me with her eyebrows raised, "What are you doing here Caelum, I thought you would be inside your suitcase experimenting with your potions?"

"Yes, so did I but I wanted to ask if you could teach me more of the stuff we talked about yesterday," I said

My mother eyebrows come together into a scowl and she says, "You know Caelum, haste does not bring success, it will take a long time for you to even get to the meat and bone of those two professions and even before you can touch upon those two fields you need to learn much about Arithmancy, Alchemy, and Ancient Runes."

"I know mother but I just want to try it out, it is like putting a beautiful woman in front of somebody then you tell them it is yours but you cannot have her for years to come, if you want you can look at her just do not touch her, do you get what I am saying, that is me."

My mother lets out a loud laugh after she hears what I said, "My, how you have grown, already knowing about what goes on between the man and the woman and describing a woman like that, my little sweetie pie sure has grown, do you plan on bringing me a daughter-in-law already?"

My cheeks redden, and I think to myself why I have even decided to let my mouth go on and speak about that metaphor. "You know... that is not what I... mean."

My mother chuckle at the sight of me feeling shy and ashamed, "I know what you meant, I just wanted a good laugh from it. Anyways I can totally relate to what you feel right now, wanting to have mastery of all things, but like I said before haste makes waste."

I sigh and feel a bit down under after I hear what my mother says but she is correct, like always, even if I wanted to give a try at Spell Crafting or Magical Items I do not know a thing about Arithmancy, Alchemy, and Ancient Runes and those three need to be understood for you to have a go at those two fields.

As I see all hope is lost, I want to go back to my suitcase and get back to experimenting with my potions, but I hear my mother continue on talking, "Like I said I too was in your feet and I can relate with your plea, so I will teach you a bit of Spell Crafting that does not require a lot of Arithmancy."

My head shoots up after I hear what my mother said, and I shout in a barely concealed tone filled with excitement, "Really?"

My mother nods her head, "Yes, but it will not be much, and we have a few days as well since you will be going back to Hogwarts soon."

I agree with my mother says, "So what will we be doing?"

My mother smiles and says, "We will be doing what I am best at, building spells, I will show you a simple example and if you can before you go back to Hogwarts, you will build a simple spell."

My mother continues on talking, "First get some parchments, I know you can do muggle math, so you will be using it if you need. Second, let me demonstrate how Spell Crafting works."

My mother brings out her wand from seemingly out of nowhere, it is breath taking just every time I see it, her wand handle is a silver colored with a metallic sheen and small little dots of light roll move around on the handle then there is the focus crystal which is a beautiful blood-colored gem. I snap out of my reverence as I hear my mother speaks the word "Lumos" then the end of her wand lights up.

"What I just cast was the Wand-Lighting Charm, a simple spell that anyone could do, but here is where things get hard, what if I wanted to cast a blue light instead of a white light that always pops up when I cast the Wand-Lighting Charm."

My mother gets up from her chair and goes to the bookshelves and gets out a great big book titled 'Spell Models' then she comes back to her desk and puts the book in front of me.

"Open the book to the Wand-Lighting Charm," my mother says and I do as I am told, the spell is found right on the second page after the Levitation Charm.

c 32

I open the great big book which is titled 'Spell Models' and flip the pages until I land on the Wand-Lighting Charm section, on that page is a description about the spell, there is also the history of the spell, and much more but what really catches my attention is an intricate model of sorts that coves a great portion of the section on the Wand-Lighting Charm.

I bring the book closer to my mother then I point at the intricate model and ask, "What is this?"

"Look closely at the title of the book, what does it say," my mother replies to me in an obvious tone but I know she is playing with me.

I turn the book over to its cover, "So it is a Spell Model?"

My mother nods her head, "Yes, that model you just pointed at is a spell model,"

Confusion is written all over my face and my mother notices it, "I know you never heard about it since what most wizards and witches do is just learn about how to perform a spell and not its inner workings."

I look closely at the spell model in front of me then think to myself, so that answers a good portion of my questions about how spells work.

I looked up at my mother and asked, "Wait I do not understand, why aren't most wizards and witches not learning this, and correct me if I am wrong but they sure as hell do not teach this at Hogwarts."

My mother sighs and turns to me, "Like with most knowledge that was once known and found in the wizarding world, it was lost to most except a few powerful individuals."

Feeling surprised that such important info would disappear like that, without noticing it my eyebrows come together to form a scowl and I ask my mother that very conundrum she just threw at me, "So you are saying such fundamental knowledge that is part of magic was forgotten just like that over time?"

My mother nods her head, "Yes, as you know wizards and witches are practically still stuck in the Middle Ages just look at Owl Postal Service which came about around the Middle Ages and it is still being used till this day, you would think it is a perfect system if it was being used for hundreds of years but it is not since first of all, it is not safe at all since anyone if they wanted too they could intercept it if they choose too. Second of all, it is just too slow while on the other hand the muggles went from using birds just like us to using telephones and us, wizards and witches, are too arrogant to use it and our arrogance is blinding us from seeing how behind we are."

I nod to that, today's wizards and witches are so behind in the times while on the other hand, the muggles advance each and every day and I cannot help but worry for their future since I am now part of them.

"All in all, with the no advancement being made in the wizarding community plus the wars that keep happening on and off, wizards and witches started to not just stay stuck where they are but started to lose important knowledge over time."

My mother takes a deep breath after she finishes ranting on, I can tell the lack of advancements on the wizards and witches part irritates her but I just do not know why.

"Anyways let's get back to the topic at hand, Spell Models, are the rudimentary break up of a spell and each and every spell has a spell model backing it up. If you ever want to go far in magic you need to make your own arsenal of spells, to do that you must know how to make spells and for that you need to understand how to build a spell model."

"Moving on, to make a spell model is very complicated and time-consuming but you have Arithmancy to help you out. Once you are done with the spell build the spell model in your mind inside of using your imagination, with this method you can save yourself the hassle of coming up with something by yourself. Here let me show you the difference."

My mother grabbed her wand and spoke the word 'Lumos' then the tip of her wand lit up. "That right there was me using my imagination of a bright light, now see the difference when I use a spell model."

Again, my grabbed her wand and spoke the word 'Lumos' then the tip of her wand lit up, she looked at me and asked, "Can you guess what the difference was?"

I nod my head and answer back, "The light was a bit brighter, you cut the casting time by a few milliseconds, and I do not know since I cannot get a good read on your natural energy levels, but if I had to make an educated guess, I would think that you used less natural energy, correct me if I am wrong."

My mother smiles, "Good, good, you are correct I did use less natural energy and as you can see thanks to me using the spell model insade of my imagination I save myself much, and even if it looks very negligible in a death fight it can make all the difference."

I can agree to that, any advantage you have against your opponent is a plus. Anyways I cannot help but feel sadden for most of the wizards and witches in the wizarding world since most of them do not even put emphasizes on using imagination when casting a spell.

"Anyways we should get back to the topic at hand, you crafting your very own spell, but first let me show you an example of how to craft a spell so that you can have an idea of what you are getting into."

c 33

I sat back down in my chair as my mother got started demonstrating on how to craft a spell.

"First look back at the Wand-Lighting Charm spell model, now if you look closely at what this part of the spell model does you can immediately catch that this part of the spell model makes the spell produce a white light, so if you were to change it a little bit." My mother taps the spell model of the Wand-Lighting Charm with her wand then magically a part of the spell model rearranges by itself. "Walh, now then try the Wand-Lighting Charm out but use this new spell model when casting the spell."

I follow my mother's command and build the new spell model as it is, in my mind then when I say the word 'Lumos' the tip of my wand lights up, but this time my wand does not produce a white light from the tip of my wand but a blue light. "Wow," I say without noticing it.

I looked away from the spell that my mother casted and look up to see my mother smiling at me.

"I know, isn't it just a fantastic feeling building your own spell then trying it out for the first time. Anyways as you can see there is much to do before you can make a spell so even if you really want to get into it you cannot, but do not fret since there will come a day that you too will be able to build your own spell."

I cannot help but agree with what my mother said and as much as I wish I could make my own spells I know I cannot since again like my mother said there are so many steps and I do not even know how to complete one at all.

"I have a quick question, why did I not see you use Arthimity to build the spell?" I ask my mother.

"Good question and the answer is really simple, I did not need it, I solved it in my mind," before I could ask my next question my mother already answered it for me. "Like I said before Arthimity is like Muggle Mathematics, the deeper you get into the easier past problems get."

That makes sense I guess, I think to myself and an example pops up in my mind, somebody that knows Algebra would not need to solve an addition problem on paper, but they can do it in their mind but the same cannot be said to somebody that just got into learning about addition.

I snap away from my thoughts as a book is dropped in front of me with a title called 'How to Read a Spell Models', I look up at my mother with a question plastered at my face. "Is this for me?"

My mother nods her head, "Yes, it is a good as any other place to start, then after you finish learning this you can start learning Arthimity during the summer from me and you will learn more about Arthimity at Hogwarts as well next year."

I pick up the book from the desk and get up from my chair, "Okay mother, I will get started on reading this book, thanks."

Then I head out of my mother's study room and go to my room so that I can get started on reading this book anyways I plan on reading it a couple times so that I can memorize it before I head back to Hogwarts.

It is early in the morning and right now I am inside my suitcase finishing up on my latest potion that I am brewing.

After I finished brewing the potion, I bottled it up inside a flask then I made sure to clean up my work station, finally, after all that was finished I headed out of my suitcase.

When I came outside of my suitcase I took a deep gulp of fresh air, as much as I love my suitcase since it is very useful and cool it is still very disconcerting jumping from one whole new world to another.

I look around my room, which is pretty well organized just the way I like it. There is my bookshelf covering one nearly side of my room with some books on it which were from my mother's study that I borrowed it from. Opposite my bookshelf is my desk with a chair, in the middle is my bed, and next to my door is a big closet. There is no bathroom and one window near my desk.

I pick up my dirty old clothes from the floor and put it in my bin for dirty clothes then I pick up any used parchments or trash and throw it in the trash bin, finally I do my bed. Just right about now I wished I know the spell for cleaning up so I could finish this all in a second but my mother forbid since as she put it, it bred laziness.

I went to my study desk and sitting on my desk is the book my mother gave me called 'How to Read a Spell Models', I picked it up and go downstairs with it. If you are wondering why I am still reading this book, it is because I sorely underestimated how much information is in this book.

The book has a few hundred pages and each spell can take up to a page or two at most, now that right there is a whole lot of spell models to finish learning about and do not let me get started on some of the new spell that are in the book which I have never heard about at all.

So basically right now I have finished reading about the spell model of the spell that I know. There is still a lot of spell models that I do not know about but I plan on keeping this book with me and my mother would not really mind since she really has no use for most of the books in her collection since I guess she already maybe knows about it. The only issue that I have with this amazing book is that it does not show me how to do these spells it holds, I guess I am asking too much from this book but I got to first learn about these spells if I want to finish the book since there is still a good chunk left.

c 34

I came downstairs to the kitchen and I was greeted to the sight of my sister having toast with peanut butter and blueberry jam, my father was also having the same for breakfast but he had coffee with his toast.

As I was sitting down at the table to have some breakfast before heading off to Hogwarts I looked at my sister and noticed that she was staring at something hungrily, I follow her gaze and saw that she was staring at the cup of coffee in my father's hand, my father also noticed her gaze that was on his coffee with a shake of his head and the release of a sigh he gets back to reading his newspaper.

I chuckled to myself, it seems like my sister was again not allowed to drink coffee by my parents, then again if I was to think back to her fixation I guess you could blame me for her craze since it was me who got her so enthusiastic towards coffee.

If you are wondering how it started, well it was one day when she saw me drinking coffee early one morning, curious, she asked me what it was that I was drinking, and I had to run my loud mouth and say that this was coffee, a drink for adults only.

She asked if she could have a taste of it but wanting to toy around with her, I refused. Then she ran and complained to my mother, who thought that she, Luna, was not old enough to be drinking coffee, and she also thought that I too was not old enough. Man, how I really wanted to shout at that moment, that I was over 30 years old.

Now here I am this morning without even a sip of coffee to wake me up, damg I thought, I should have just let my sister have a taste of the coffee, immediately she would have realized by herself how bitter it is and then things would have been left at it was, but I had to poke at her.

I sat down at the breakfast table and then pick up some toast and also some jam that was on the middle of the table. I sigh when I look at my cup, it is empty and with no coffee I think to myself, I get up from my chair and go to the refrigerator, I take out the milk and bring it back to the table.

For the 100th time I sigh as I slowly pour the milk into my cup, it seems like this will be how my life will be for now on I think silently to myself, I seems like I will not be having any more of the bittersweet liquid that provides the only semblance of pleasure.

My mother came to the table with more toast and asks if we want more, we all refuse the extra toast but she just looked at us and placed more toast in front of us then she sat down at the table. Not arguing with her since we all know we will not win at all me, my father and sister get working on eating our extra.

As my mother was making her own toast she looked over at me with her eyebrow raised and asked me, "Is all your stuff prepared? I do not want to see you running around in a hurry to get prepared."

"I.. amm rad.." I tried to say with a whole toast in my mouth.

My mother lightly hits me on the back of my head as a scowl played on her face, "Finish your food first before you speak, you are getting bread crumbs all over my table."

My sister snickered at me under her breath and feeling as if I have to place my injustice some were I growled at her. She sticks her tongue back at me and before I could return fire, I notice from the corner of my eyesight my mother giving me a stink eye and with that look from my mother all animosity fled away from me and I get back to eating my breakfast.

My father just looks at us bickering and let out a light chuckle then gets back to his newspaper at hand. After I finished my breakfast my mother looked at me and said, "Hurry up, go put on some muggle clothing, we leave in about an hour and make sure to double check that you have everything prepared, I do not want you sending me owls saying you forgot some of your stuff."

I nod my head and go up to my room but before I leave I make sure to get my sister by lightly flicking her on the forehead and before she could get me, I run away.

I get to my room then go to my closet and take out some muggle clothes to put on so that I can fit right in with the muggles before I get on the Hogwarts Express. As I am putting on my clothes Hedwig comes knocking on my window with her beak. I quickly finish putting on my clothes then go to my suitcase and get out Hedwig's birdcage stand after that I open the window for Hedwig, she comes inside and flies around my room once after that she lands on her birdcage stand.

I go to her and gave her some owl food then I asked, "How was your hunt, girl?"

And before you think I am crazy, Hedwig nodded her head to answer my question.

"Alright girl, you will have to go into your cage, we are going back to Hogwarts, okay?" I say to her after Hedwig finishes her owl treat, she goes into her cage that I got out from my suitcase.

I double checked that everything is prepared and that I did not forget anything that I would be needing when I am at Hogwarts and that I did not forget anything.

c 35

"Hey guys," I said absentmindedly to the twins as I entered the compartment they were inside, I looked up from my book when I did not get a reply back from them so I look at them and I have to say I am shocked with what I am greeted to, the both of them throwing spell at each other.

I cleared my throat to get their attention and they both slowed down a bit with throwing spells at each other and turned to me. Once I had their attention I asked the question that in my opinion really needed to be addressed, "What the hell are the two of you doing?"

"Oh, hey Caelum, I see that the moment has finally come and we have come earlier than you on the Hogwarts Express," said George as he ducked under, as the spell Fred fired sped over him.

I sigh, and place my hand on my forehead trying to rub away the headache that will come upon me any moment, I look at the both of them moving about and casting the few spells that they know at each other and try to figure out what on earth their goal is, but I cannot guess how these two minds work "You two did not answer my question, so let me say it slowly, what are the two of you up?" I ask again.

You may be wondering why I am overreacting to what these two are doing but at Hogwarts, we got into so much trouble (thanks to Filch) and our first year is not even over yet. I know for sure that Filch is just waiting for us to do something dumbfounding then get us kicked out.

"Well, we were cooped up in our house for so long and thanks to our dear mother we could not do any magic at home," answered Fred as he fell to the floor to dodge the spell fired at him and rolled to one side to dodge the other spell. "Now we are getting our blood flowing and getting ready for Hogwarts," said George through pants and sit down.

Fred gets up from the ground and also sits down, I look at the both of them and think to myself why on earth did I decide to become friends with these two, all the trouble I get into is not worth it, complaining to myself I take my suitcase and put it on the rack with the twin's stuff.

I grab Hedwig's cage and look inside and see that she is sleeping, I wanted to ask if she wanted to fly to Hogwarts since she enjoys being in the outside rather than being cooped up inside her cage, but I see that she is very tired from the hunting she did all night long, so I carefully put her on the rack.

"So, what did you do during the holidays, Caelum?" Fred asked me. Before I could answer him, Lee Jorden came inside our train compartment. "Hello, mates!"

"Hey, Lee it looks like you are the last one to come today," says Fred and George picks up the conversation so naturally that I am shocked yet again at how these two can finish each other sentences a part of me wonders if they could read each other minds or something. "So that means you get the only remaining seat."

"Anyways what were you guys talking about when I came inside?" asked Lee. I look at him and ask myself does he have some magical creature blood in him because that is some really good hearing he has. Man, what kind of people did I befriend.

"Oh, we were asking each other what we did over the holidays before you rudely interrupted us," answered Fred with a smile on his face, Lee just awkwardly laughed it off.

At that moment I speak up, "ignore the both of them, so what did you do over the Holidays, all I did was read some books."

Lee looked at us with what I think is stars in his eyes or I am just being a chuunibyou, "You won't believe it but there was a wizarding circus in town this Christmas and my dad took me to it and there were so many cool magical creatures and amazing spell being cast."

George sighed, "man you are so lucky all we did was play quidditch, and you, Caelum, what is this you and reading, why can't you live a little."

"Tch, do I look like a little kid to you? Anyways have you not heard the phrase knowledge is power, you got to read a lot if you want to ever become a powerful wizard."

Fred shakes his head, "You have said that phrase a million times and you should know that we do read, sometimes, but we only read things of use not any of the boring old drabs that you read."

I shake my head and get back to my book and at that, the train finally picks up and we start to leave the station. I stick my head out the window and so do the three of them and we wave our families goodbye all the way until we are far off from the train station.

As the train was moving along I heard Lee sigh and I look at him with a questioning look on my face, "What, I am very hungry just cannot wait for the trolley to come along."

As if his wish was heard a knock came on our compartment door and it was slowly slid open. We looked at who opened the door and we see that it is the trolley lady. "Hello dears, can I get you anything off from the trolley?"

Fred and George mouth hang open and they look at each other as if to confer their theory with each other. Lee looks at the trolley lady and says, "We will... have a little bit of everything... if that is alright with you."

c 36

Lee spoke up, "We will... have a little bit of everything... if that is alright with you, ma'am."

"That is more than fine with me, dear." The trolley lady says to Lee with a sweet smile on her face as she carefully takes out what he asked for the trolley.

The trolley lady hands Lee the sweets he ordered then he quickly hands the money after that the trolley lady says her goodbyes and closes our compartment door as she leaves.

After a while, Fred spoke up, "how on earth did she do that, Lee just wished for the trolley to come along, puff, she was here, at our compartment."

Lee nods his head and says, "I know, right, what kind of dark magic was that?"

George shakes his along to what his Fred and Lee say and speaks up in a whisper after they say their piece, "I cannot believe we were thinking about sneaking off the train, one day."

Lee face contorted as he heard what George said and shouted, "What!" but he immediately caught himself, I think he thought that the trolley lady might hear him if he spoke very loud so this time when he spoke it was in a whisper, "are you guys crazy, you wanted to sneak off the train?"

Fred smiles at Lee, "don't worry, we now know how scary that trolley lady is so there is no way we will try to cross her."

Lee looks relieved after he got that confirmation from Fred, "Good, that granny looks very dangerous, she must be some powerful witch."

"Yeah that makes sense, nobody at Hogwarts is average except maybe Filch, I think that he might be a squib." Said, George.

Fred looks at me, "Why are you laughing Caelum?" He is right, I was trying really hard to hold it in so that I could continue to listen to them spew ridiculous ideas, but they are all facing me with questioning looks, now that they noticed me I let it out and continue to laugh until some tears fall down my face and my stomach starts to hurt.

"Okay, okay I am done laughing now," I said to them as I wipe away the tears that build up on the corners of my pair of eyes, I look at them and see that they do not look so happy, so I figure I owe them an explanation.

"What? you guys sound like some frightened muggles, 'she must have done some serious dark magic' come on are all of you guys serious, if you want an honest opinion, then she must have set up some wards already in the compartment to catch certain keywords so that she could come as soon as possible if anyone needs anything."

"What, but how? isn't setting up wards very hard, I thought that only a powerful wizard or a group of wizards could set it up," said Fred.

"Professor Dumbledore must have done it, he is always doing some crazy stuff, this fits the bill anyway so why not." I look at the twins then add, "or he might have set it up to help the trolley lady keep track of people who want to get off the Hogwarts Express."

"Yeah that makes sense, anyways we were not the ones that said, 'she must have done dark magic' it was Lee who said that did you see him, he nearly jumped off his seat when the trolley lady came," said George.

Lee snorts, "Did you guys see yourselves, you were deathly pale and sweating buckets, so you were not any better than me."

I shake my head at them as see they continue to argue with each other, wanting not to get into their pointless argument I sneakily dig into the snacks that Lee careless placed all over the compartment and get back to my book.

But under my breath, I say "that is why knowledge is important."

The four of us rush off the Hogwarts Express with nothing on our hands (house elves take your stuff to your room at Hogwarts) as soon as the train stopped at the station. Hagrid was there but this time he was not here to lead the first years but everyone to the carriages that are driven by the Thestrals. It seems like I can see them, must be because I died I guess.

I looked at the Thestrals that are tethered to the carriage, they look like boney reptile horses with wings but what catches my attention is their pupilless eyes, it is ghostly milk white all around.

I turn away from the Thestrals and get into the carriage with the twins and Lee so I do not have to draw attention to myself.

As I get into the carriage Fred looks at me and asks, "Why were you staring at the carriage for a while there?"

"Oh, I was just wondering what makes these carriages move, I am sure as hell it isn't an animated carriage since that would take a lot of magic to do, even for Professor Dumbledore."

"You always pay attention to things that do not matter," said Fred and George carried on for him, "look at us, all we care about is digging into that delicious return feast."

I look at them and the contempt is clearly evident on my face, "is your stomach the only things you guys can think of, for all you deny that Ron is related to you guys, you are clearly very similar."

Fred and George each put their hands on their hearts and put on fake shocked faces. "How could you compare us to our adopted brother?"

Ever since I have known the twins they put on a facade that they have nothing to do with Ron.

"Fine, that is an unfair comparison but you are getting very close," I said.

Lee looks at us and speaks up, "we are here so stop arguing and let's get off the carriage, the feast awaits us."

c 37

I let out a good sigh of satisfaction as I get to my dorm house bed at the Gryffindor Tower, woah, if I keep on having these kinds of feasts here at Hogwarts I am really going to get fat and very soon. But who cares about that right now, my stomach is full, and I feel blissful all is well and good in my little world.

I wake up very early in the morning, heavy-eyed from my deep sleep, I looked around my dorm room which is very different from my own room back at home, and for a good moment I totally forgot where I am and feeling shocked and frightened a little bit of the unfamiliar place, I jumped off my bed trying to get into my best fighting stance, but it was so pitiful since I tripped over my own suitcase and fell head first on to the ground.

I hear a voice speak to me as I get my face off the floor, "hey why are you awake so early, Caelum?"

I look up and see that it is Lee who spoke to me then I understand where I am, it is Hogwarts, dang I feel like such an idiot.

I look back up and see that Lee is sticking out his head from his bed still waiting for an answer I would guess and there is no way I am telling him that I was spooked and thought that I was kidnapped or whatever else that ran through my mind at that moment so I decided to just come up with an excuse, "what do you mean," I ask as I try to stall, I look around my dorm room for something that would save me from humiliation then my eyes catch sight of my watch sticking out from my coat.

I look at the time on my watch then I look over at my three roommates who have yet to get out of their beds. I turn my head up to Lee and click my tongue, "It is 6 o'clock and you guys are still lazing around in your bed and you are wondering why I am awake, well, have I good day I am getting started on my day quite early today."

"Well, you can do whatever you want, I am going back to sleep," says Lee as I hear him turn around in his bed to get into a comfortable position. I get off from the floor and wipe away some sweat, good gods that was a really close shave, good thing he bought it I think to myself, I head to the restroom to get freshened up.

I came down to the dining hall of Hogwarts, look around the hall and saw that most of the Slytherins are here including their Head of House Professor Severus Snape, it seems like there is 'no rest for the wicked'.

Then I looked at the Ravenclaw table and see that a lot of them are up and about, they even have their school books out in front of them as they are having breakfast, I spot the Ravenclaw Head of House, Professor Flitwick, and see that he is having a conversation with my Head of House, Professor McGonagall.

I look at my house's table and see only a handful of students, with a shake of my head I start walking to my house's table and look around for the best seat which is where all the good food is near, I see Percy at the table and he has the best seat, a little part of me wonders if he is always up this early just because he wants to get his hands on the good grub and not act as a model student.

I sit down next to Percy, he greets me and I greet him back then after he turns around to get back to his breakfast, I stare at his back trying to somehow, I would think, get answers. I snickered a bit at the foolish idea and hold back the laughter so as not to draw Percy's attention. Man o man, I should really tell my suspicion that I have come up with to the twins, they sure as hell won't leave it alone for a long time.

As I am mulling over my thoughts Percy voice broke throw it all as I heard him ask, "are my brothers still asleep?"

I get out of my thoughts and answer back hastily, "yeah, they are still sleeping just like logs."

He shakes his head and sighs, "did you at least try to wake them up?"

I look at him in incredulity "No way, you know how cranky they are this early in the morning, they will fire dozens of spells at me if I had woken them up." I am really serious, those two are all fun and dandy throughout the day but in the early mornings, it is like a flip was a switch somewhere in their brains.

I continue talking to Percy, "it is the first day after our holiday break, so no sweat, our classes are going to be easy today. Anyways, look around not that many people from our house are awake at this time."

I get back to my food as I am eating I look at Percy who looks kind like he is constipated or maybe I am just looking at it all wrong and this is just his thinking face, anyways I ask him, "hey, what is wrong?"

"It's nothing, forget it," he said to me. I looked at him and shrug my shoulder, well have your way I think to myself, as I am getting ready to leave, Percy speaks up, "it is just that all the other houses are already awake and look at our house, basically nobody is here."

"Well, there is not that many Hufflepuff that are awake," I said, which is correct since I only see their Head of House, Professor Sprout and two or three groups of Hufflepuff.

c 38

Percy speaks up, "it is just that all the other houses are already awake and look at our house, there is basically nobody is here."

"Well, there is not that many Hufflepuff that are awake," I point out to him lazily, which is correct since I only see their Head of House, Professor Sprout and two or three little groups of Hufflepuff huddled together, I shake my head, those Hufflepuff are always together holding hands, I muse.

He looks at me and snorts, "you know that is not what I mean, look at the Slytherin table, every single one of them is already awake."

I laugh at him and say a bit teasingly, "if I hadn't known I would have thought that you were a big Slytherin fan."

"Hey, I am being serious here, okay then, look at the Ravenclaw table, mostly all of them are already awake and they are even getting a head start on their classes."

I look at him for a while, I know his character from the books but here in front of me is the real flesh and blood and I must say, he is far more intelligent than the books make him out to be or is it just because he did not have that much scene time, anyways I am amazed that he started to figure out the issues that plague each house.

I rub my chin for a bit and decided to throw him a little bit of guidance "Well, let me shower you with a bit of my knowledge, the four houses are like your fingers, they are each different from each other but if you make a real effort and twist them and turn them this way and that, you can even them out eventually and make them similar to each other but then your fingers will be broken and will not function anymore." I pause for a bit and look at him and ask, "Anyways you get what I am saying, right?"

He nods his head slowly than a bit faster and faster, "yeah, I do."

"Well that is good, but do not get confused, I did say that the houses are different but that does not mean you should give up on improving or getting rid of bad habits. Well, I have said my piece, and I have to go now but if you ever need a bit of guidance you know where to find me." I get up from my seat, wipe away the crumbs, and wave Percy goodbye as I head out of the dining hall.

"Today we will be covering the Wiggenweld Potion, so listen up closely, because this is a very important potion for all of you since none of you do not even know a lick about Healing spells. The Wiggenweld Potion is able to cure injuries and it is the antidote for the Sleeping Draught and the Draught of Living Death," said Professor Snape.

Right now, I am in Professor Snape's Potion class deep down inside the basement. I already knew how to make this potion since as Professor Snape said it would be the only thing I would know for curing injuries until I could learn Healing spells.

"You will work with the person that is right next to you and the two of you will be making the potion by yourselves, make sure to follow the instructions very closely, it is very simple, so I do not want to see any accidents happening. Now then stop gawking at me and begin!"

There was an immediate scrabbling of noise as some people got up and went to the supply cabinet to get their ingredient for the potion, others started flipping through their books to get to the Wiggenweld Potion section.

I look at my partner for the day and say to him, "well it seems like today you have the honor of working with me." I have to say, he really is lucky to have me as his partner, I guess it was not really luck but just Professor Snape dumping his problems on to me, but I must say if there was anybody worse than Neville Longbottom in potionnering than it would be him, Adrian Pucey (Ch. 20).

All I get for a response is a low grunt, I raise my eyebrow and ask him "Adrian is there some dissatisfaction among the ranks?"

He hurriedly raised his head and starts splattering, "no, no I was just feeling a bit cold, it is chilly in, here right?" I raise my eyebrow again as soon as I did not hear the magic word and he too notices it and tries to fix it quickly by adding "I mean grandpa," he finishes.

I sigh it seems like much of the progress we made together has been erased thanks to the long break, I quickly make sure to mentally jot this down for when I build my evil, cough, I mean organization. You just cannot give your minions, I mean, workers a break, they will have nothing to do so it will give them plenty of time to think and you never want your workers to think about their situation.

It seems like we will have to start from base one again I think to myself, I place my hand on his shoulder and say to him kindly as if I was a lovingly grandpa, "listen up here, Adrian, you know I always want the best for you, Right?"

He shakes his head immediately and says, "yes grandpa!"

"Good, it is just that I do not want anything to happen to you, you know how terrible you are when it comes to potions, and it can get awfully dangerous work especially for you and I do the best I can to make sure you do not mess things up but if you do not listen I cannot be held responsible for any of the mistakes you make, you know?"

c 39

"Good, it is just that I do not want anything to happen to you, you know how terrible you are when it comes to potions, and it could get awfully dangerous especially for you. I really try the best I can for you and make sure you do not mess things up but if you do not listen, I cannot be held accountable for any of the mistakes you make, you know?"

His eyes widen as he continues to listen to what I say, I guess he must have started to remember the good old times we use to have together. Woah, I have to say when Professor Snape dropped him onto me, he was a real arrogant racist prick, but we had lots of time to work on his character together, it must be sweet old memories to him now, maybe it is something he recalls from time to time just so he could remember the good old day.

Good old memories, me and him, him insulting me and my blood states and me making sure his cauldron always explodes but he learned really quickly that I can do a lot more than just make his cauldron explode. Anyways nowadays we get along just fine, really it is as if we have always been the best of buds.

I look at him evilly and ask, "why the long face, Adrian, my good old buddy?"

"It is nothing, boss, the air you know, it kind of chilly."

"Listen here, Adrian, my old pal, if you follow my instruction just as I say them, we will get along just fine, okay?" He quickly nods his head and I continue talking, "but if you do not, well then, I do not need to mention what will happen, correct?"

He gulps loudly and answers, "Yes, boss."

"Good, now go on and get Wiggentree bark, Moly, Dittany, one pint of Horklump juice, 2 drops of Flobberworm Mucus, 7 Chizpurfle fangs, Billywig sting slime, a sprig of mint, Boom Berry juice, one stewed Mandrake, Honeywater, Sloth brain Mucus, Moondew drops, Salamander blood,10 Lionfish spines, Unicorn horn, and Wolfsbane from the ingredients cabinet and make sure to be quick about it."

He gets up and goes to the supply cabinet, but I know that he will be back since he did not write a thing. Well, I will just have to deal with it when he comes back but before that let's get set up here.

I get out a cauldron, my protective gloves (dragon hide), brass scales, and crystal phials, oh, and I nearly forgot, I get out my wand, and o boy let me tell you something, your wand is the quintessential thing when it comes to potionnering and that is because it can do just about everything for you, from swirling, moving things around, and much more.

As I am finishing getting set up, Adrian comes back with a fearful face. I look at him and ask, "Well, did you get the stuff I told you to get?"

"No... boss," he answers with his face facing downward, not daring to look up at me.

I let out a loud exhale just so that he could hear me loud and clear and know how I feel. And he does, you can notice it from the way he tries to visibly make himself look smaller.

"Adrian, what did you take away from the speech that I have specifically tailored for you?"

"You said, listen to what I say and do it exactly how I say it and then everything will work out," he answers back, still looking down on the floor.

I shake my head, "Good it seems like somethings have gotten into your hard head, huh, well let me give you some advice. If you want to easily follow my instruction then make sure that you always have a pen and paper with you because it would make everything a lot easier for me and you since you can just write what I tell you and then carry it out swiftly, so then we won't be having any of this nonsense of you trying to remember everything I say because really who are we kidding, I would be surprised if you were able to remember just 20 of the worlds I have said."

I look over at him and ask, "so why are you not starting to write down what I am saying, muh?"

He hurriedly starts to get moving and grabs his parchments and feathered pen from his bag. "Now I am going to say the ingredients again so make sure you get it down this time and make sure you hurry up everyone is getting started," I tell him the ingredients once again, he quickly writes it all down on his parchment and rushes off to the ingredients cabinet.

As I look at him getting the ingredients from the supply cabinet, I think to myself, these Slytherins are really a weird bunch, the only thing they respond well to is fear and bullying but if you try to be kind them or even friendly to them, they will make sure to step all around you. Now that I think about it this is how they seem to operate as adults as well in the books, bullying nearly everyone to get their way around and fearing those who are much more powerful than them. It would seem like this is just how they are raised, vicious little snakes.

I look at the Gryffindors that are here down in the basement, taking potions together with the Slytherins, they are both so different from each other. One response to fear and bullying and the other one responds to friendship and kindness.

It looks like the idea that 'different people respond differently to the same situation' is more than true.

c 40

"Now that we have all the ingredients that we will need for making the Wiggenweld potion right in front of us and also all of the equipment that we would be using, we can finally get started on brewing the Wiggenweld Potion," I say to Adrian Pucey.

I roll up my sleeves and look up at Adrian, "so we have already done this plenty have times, so what is the first thing we should be doing, when we will be brewing a potion?"

"That one is easy, boss, the first thing we need to do is to make sure that you have all of your ingredients up to the standard, or else, as you have said, you are setting yourself up for failure," he quickly answered me and I can see that he is feeling a bit smug with the way he puffed up his chest, if he hadn't caught my questioning look I guess he would have already started to beat his chest like a gorilla.

I internally shake my head, you look away from them for one second and they are already starting to act like a curly haired baboon. Anyways the point he made is correct, without ingredients that are up to the standard your potion is bound to fail. For example, these Wiggentree bark need to be fresh and not old or wilted or else potion will not be as effective, another one is these Moly which has to come with a black stem and white flowers.

"I will be weighing and measuring the things that need to be, crush the spines, and stewed Mandrake so all you have to do is blending the ingredients that need to be turned into a juice, can you do that?" I ask him but it's not really a question, more of an order, but he nods his head and adds "Yeah, I will get right to it, boss," in confirmation and we both get to work setting up our ingredients before we start brewing the potion.

As we are working on preparing our ingredients, Professor Snape slowly strode around the dungeon classroom, watching every student working on their potion with his black soul devouring pairs of eyes.

"Okay, are you done with the task I gave you, Adrian?" He nods his head, "Alright, now then let's get started on brewing the potion."

"So, the first step is to add salamander blood until our potion turns red. Then we shall stir it until the potion becomes orange." I look up from the book to see if he had followed those two instructions correctly, but I see that he has not even moved, I sigh. "What are you waiting for Adrian, do you expect me to do a grunt's work?"

"It is just that I fear I might mess this up, you know, big explosion."

"Do not worry about that, what did I say just a few minutes ago, if you follow my instructions, nothing will go wrong, I promise, okay!"

He nods his head, I look at him and say "okay, now get started on the two steps that I have just mentioned to you."

He added the salamander blood then stirred the potion with a cauldron spoon, I would have just used my wand to do it, but everyone cannot be as good as me I think to myself narcissistically. Adrian gaze takes me away from my thoughts as he waits for me to give him the next step, I put on a show of nodding my head to him, for his correctness in following my instruction, just so he does not catch on my mussing then I continued on.

"Add more salamander blood, this time make sure it turns yellow. Then stir it again until the potion turns green. Then add more salamander blood, one final time until the potion turns turquoise." I look from the corner of my eye and see that he is doing good, so I read on

"Next we need to heat the potion until it becomes indigo." Once I say that step, I look back at him to see if he might have gotten started on an explosion and my eyes nearly pop out when I see what the idiot is doing, "Are you trying to start a fire with a matchstick? Aren't you a goddam wizard, use your wand, you imbecile."

"I do not know that spell very well, so I thought that I might as well make it on my own, the muggle way, you know with matchsticks."

"Give me that," I snatch away the box of matchsticks he has in his hands and put it into my pocket. "First of all, you are an embracement to all wizard-kind and especially me, how do you not know the Fire-Making spell, it's first-year material? You know what, I do not want to know, here let me do it." I wave my wand in the shape of a crude flame and say the Incantation 'Incendio' then a flame appears under the cauldron.

I wave my arm to him and say, "okay let's get back to making our potion."

He doesn't even know a first-year spell 'that well', so how the hell does he have the gall of shamelessness boast about his pure-blood.

"Alright let's hurry it up here, we got few more steps then we are done. Next we will be adding five lionfish spines..."

As time went by we move along on the process of finishing up our potion, I would give out the instructions and some times do a few spells to speed along things and make the process easier. Adrian would do the grunt's work as I like to call it, he would stir the potion when the need would come and add the ingredients I tell him to.

"Okay, add a few drops of boom berry juice then just stir the potion again, after that let it simmer for thirty minutes and then we are done."

We finish letting the potion cooldown, I ask Adrian to clean our station then I go up to Professor Snape, who is sitting at his desk.

c 41

We finished letting the potion cooldown, I asked Adrian to clean up our station then I got up and went to Professor Snape, who was sitting at his desk, with my completed Wiggenweld Potion.

Professor Snape looked up from his paperwork, and stared at me with raised eyebrows, "to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Lovegood, there is a good 10 min left until the class is over."

I keep it short and simple, and answer back to him, "I have finished brewing my potion, sir." I hold out my hand and in it is a crystal phials with a green liquid sloshing around inside it.

"You are already finished, hm, let me see what you have brewed," he said and stuck out his hand from his dark robes. I hand over the potion to him and wait back as he slowly inspects the potion.

"Mhh, it seems like you have followed the instruction precisely that is all well and good, but I expect more from you, Mr. Lovegood." He turns away from my potion and looks up at me. "Try experimenting with different ingredients and see if you can improve the formula. Other than that, you have done well, you and your partner will get full points." He hands me the potion, "clean up your station then after that, you are free to go."

"Thank you, sir!"

It is very easy to deal with Profesor Snape if you are just a little bit competent and do not make a mess in his potion class then it is more than enough if you were a Slytherin but if you had been a Gryffindor you need to show a great deal of skill and respect, oh, yeah and you must not have anything to do 'the boy who lived' because that would immediately ruin any prospects you have with him.

"So, what did Profesor Snape say we get, boss?" asked Adrian as soon as I got back to our station.

"We got full points on our potion, and we can leave as soon as you are finished cleaning up here," I said to him as I start packing up my stuff.

"I am all done here." I nod my head, "Well that good, you can leave whenever you want, and yeah, wait up, before you run off, here take this." I toss him the Wiggenweld Potion.

"You are giving me the potion, are you sure about this, boss?" Adrian looked at me in surprise.

"What can I say, you have earned it, anyways I have made myself a few of the potion so just keep it, you will never know when you might need it so make sure you keep it near you because this school is very dangerous, not safe at all for kids."

I think about what will be in store for the school in the future giant three-headed vicious dog, killer giant snake, evil wizard running around, and all sorts of monster just sitting right next door in the woods add it all up and you get one of the best wizarding school of Europe.

I look into my inner pockets and see that three Wiggenweld Potion are in them, I have them for in case help does not arrive in time, can't be too safe in a school where danger is just around the corner.

"Thanks, boss I will make sure to keep it with me all the time."

"Atta boy got to make sure you keep your priority straight." I nod my head, "Well, see next time for potions." I grabbed my school bag, waved goodbye to the twins who are still working on their potion, then left the potions classroom, and went out of the dungeon.

I was walking through the ancient medieval hallways of Hogwarts, going to my next class which was Herbology.

As I was turning the corner I heard a shout, "Hey wait up mate!" I look around and see the twins running towards me.

What the hell do they what this time, I think, as I wait for them to catch up to me.

"What is the rush, Caelum!" Fred says through panted breaths as soon as he catches up to me. "Yeah, what is the big deal, we had our big heist coming up, we need to plan," says George.

"What heist?" I ask confused.

"Did you already forget," Fred asks incredulity. George puts his hand on his brother's shoulder and shakes his head in an exasperated matter, "I think he did, twin," he answers.

I look at the two of them and roll my eyes, "I am totally on board, it is just that I need a reminder of what we are going to be doing."

The twins who were hugging each other and looking like they are close to tears immediately separated from each other and had bright smiles plastered on their faces. One placed his hand on my shoulder, the other one grabbed my hand and lead me away from the now crowded hallway as everyone was now getting out from their finished classes.

"As expected of our good old buddy," said Fred as he took me to a corner with no one nearby. "Yep we always know we could always count on you," added George, he started to scan around the area to make sure that nobody could listen in then he leaned in and whispered, "we are breaking into Filch's office."

Fred nodded his head to what his twin said, "yeah remember the source who told us there is a lot of magical items that Filch confiscated over the years in his office. (ch.28)"

"Oh yeah, you guys are talking about the info Peeves gave you."

Now I remember this must around the time that the twins steal the Marauder's Map from Filch's office.

"Hey he does not have to be Peeves who told us," said George frustratingly. "Yeah we could have more than just Peeves as a source," added Fred.

c 42

"Hey, our information does not have to be from Peeves," said George frustratingly. "Yeah he is right, we could have more than just Peeves as a source," added Fred.

I put place a hand on Fred's shoulder and the other one on George's shoulder. This will teach them a good lesson about not playing with me.

With a bright smile on my face I speak in a kindly warm elder tone and say to the both of them, "listen up here guys, right now, at Hogwarts, you guys are just the little kids, so nobody will be following you or for that matter be even taking you seriously, but as you get older and you become 5th, 6th, or 7th year students all those little bright-eyed first years and second years will look up to the both of you like role models. But, word of advice, you shall need something to differentiate you from the rest of the crowd because there is like what, 20-30 first years alone in Gryffindor. Now that means there are around 80-120 first years in Hogwarts, and if you were to count the whole student body that would be 560-840, so you would really need to have a thing going on for you that makes you guys stand out from the rest of the student body then you will not need to fret over being obsolete or mundane. Then after you have your thing it would be your time to shine."

I looked at both of them right in the eyes and asked, "kapch kapsh, hmm." They looked at me with questioning looks on their faces, it would seem like they did not understand, so I try to clarify, "It means do you understand."

"OH, yes, yes, we did, so anyways you are saying if we have a 'thing' then we will be popular," asked Fred.

I nod my head slowly for just a tiny bit, "Yeah, I guess, sort of."

They look at each other and ask me at the same time, "Well, us breaking into Filch's office would take us to the top no matter what."

"Yeah, while we are at it let's break into the library and get ourselves some wickedly powerful spells."

Hey, all I wanted to do was get back at you guys with a small joke and damper your moods a little bit, not sprout out bold aspirations in your hearts. Fuck I really did shoot myself in the foot.

"Listen up here," I shout angrily at the twins then I remember myself and where I am in, the Gryffindor common room. I speak up again but this time in a whisper, "I am not taking part in your plan at all, we will get caught no matter what if we go through with it, so count me out.

I lay back on to my chair and turn to stare at the fireplace just so I could ignore those two, but I cannot shake them off since I keep on hearing the both of them slowly whisper my name"Caelum, caelum, c . ae lum!"

I take in a deep breath and let it out, I turn to them and ask in the best calm tone I can, "What do you need Fred, George?"

"We just wanted to say that, if the both of us get caught you too would be implicated in it, so come with us or stay here, we will all be in trouble if the two of us were to be caught."

My eyes narrow, "you guys wouldn't." My mind spins as thoughts ran through then I catch on to one and say to them smugly, "even if you blew me out I wouldn't get in trouble since I wasn't with the both of you, hah!"

Both of them look at me with a knowing smile and then Fred speaks up, "That is not really the point Caelum, ever since we were kids, the three of us were always together and we did nearly everything together so when we are caught, Filch will absolutely make to point you out and why wouldn't the Professors assume it because they know that the three of us always stick together."

Dang I think to myself as I rub my nose bridge trying to hold back the massive headache, I know what these two damn devils are saying is true, I turn to George who continues on from where his twin left off, but what nearly bursts my nerve is that he is absentmindedly picking his nails as if there is ain't a thing he gives a care about in this world. "If we tattle or not, you, Mr. Lovegood, will be implicated, either way, if we were to be caught," George says.

"Hey, hey listen up," I say trying a different approach, a more soft tone "that right there is blackmailing, you guys wouldn't do that to your best friend would you, huh?"

Both of them place their hands on their chests and put on shocked expressions, Fred speaks up "We would never blackmail a good friend, all we are doing is stating the facts anyways it is you that I am worried about, abandoning your friends while they risk their necks for you."

I looked at them confused, "What do you mean by 'we are risking our necks for you'?"

"We are trying to get you very useful magical artifacts from Filch's office and even powerful spells to boot! Anyways we know you want those cool toys and powerful spells, Caelum."

I really do what so see what Filch has in his office and gets some useful spells, but there is no way I am admitting that to these devils. "Okay look we cannot hit both the library and Filch's office that would be stupid since we will be drastically increasing the chance of us being caught so lets just hit Filch's office and we can hit the library some other time."

They look at me with smiles on their faces, "So you are on board?"

I snort and say, "what other choice do I have."

c 43

"Okay listen up here, we cannot hit both the library and Filch's office at the same time, it would draw to much heat to us and drastically increasing the chance of us being caught," I say to twins who are craning their necks to listen in on what I have to say. Of the three of us, I have always been the one to think of things strategically and make sure that our plans work out smoothly. But they, on the other hand, have always been the wicked touch.

"You know, if we take Filch out of the picture we could do as we please since not a single soul would be awake that late," Fred says with an evil smile on his face.

George also wickedly smiles, nods his head along to what his twin just said and then adds, "That right there is a brilliant idea twin, it could really work, and you know from what I heard his magic is abysmal."

No, you lunatics he has no magic, he is a flipping squib, but there is no way I am going to tell them that at all because that sort of information would seriously embolden them.

"Listen up here, sneaking around at night and attacking a staff member are two seriously different things. The first one, nobody would care because which student here did not wander around past curfew time doing gods knows what, but the other one, ohohoho, that would bring us ruin and destruction, all the Professors and maybe even Dumbledore, himself, would come out and get in on the hunt of catching the person who dared attacked a school staff member and with the spells at their disposal and our abysmal defenses, we would be caught in a matter of minutes and there would not be a slit slap on the wrist but at best, immediate expulsion or at worst we could be sent to Azkaban."

As I kindly point out each and everything that would happen once they decide to go through with their so-called 'brilliant idea' the twins become paler and paler as they hear things go wrong at every turn and once I mention that Professor Dumbledore would join in on the hunt to capture them their eyes go wide-eyed as if it would pop out. After I conclude speaking about their awaited fates, they were shivering all over.

After a long while, Fred speaks up, "So you are in implying that we should break into either one of the locations tomorrow or sometime in the next few days and for the other one we should sneak in some other time in the future?"

I nod my head and answer back, "yeah that sound about right." They look at each other and nod their heads to each other, from my best guess, in agreement.

George looked at me and asked, "So which location should we break into first?"

"The library is well guarded, and all the Professors know that some kid would want to get their greedy hands on some very powerful and useful spells," I look at them in a knowing smile and they just roll their eyes at me. "I wouldn't be surprised if I saw Filch prowling around near the library, so our best bet is to find our way to Filch's office and break in, nobody would expect that especially Filch because who would, they would all think, want to break into a glorified janitor's office."

Fred awkwardly scratches his red hair, "So Caelum, do you know where Filch's office is?"

I pause for a moment and nearly hurl out a sling of profound curses at these two knuckleheads, but I hear somebody speak up, "If you want to find Filch's office it is located at Room 234-00 which is connected to the Entrance Hall, that is on the Ground Floor of Hogwarts Castle."

I was so alarmed that my soul nearly took flight from my body, I turned to where the voice came from and saw that it was Charlie Weasley looking at the three of us with a smile on his freckled face.

It would seem like we were so engrossed in our conversation that we did not even notice Charlie had sneaked up on to us, you would have thought that a big stocky man (he is an adult by wizard law) like Charlie would have made a bunch of noise when he crept up to us, but he did not even make a sound. No wonder he made a good Dragonologist, it takes a lot of skills to tame and study a dragon, they are widely regarded as the most terrifying, yet awe-inspiring magical creature and it takes skill, not a lumbering oaf.

"Oh, Charlie what brings you here," asked George nervously. "I thought you were busy doing some work-study experience just like all the other 7th year students."

"I am done with winter work-study, all that is left is to see the Antipodean Opaleye this summer in Australian."

I know the games is up, he must have heard a lot of what we said so there is no use of skirting around the main issue, "So how much did he hear of what we were talking about, Charlie?"

The twins' eyes widen, and they nearly jump up from their chair trying to cover my mouth, I would think but they hold themselves back since they realized there is no point, so you might as well face it head-on now.

Charlie drops his wide smile, "I came around the part where you were lecturing these two about what could happen if you were to attack a staff member of Hogwarts."

I sigh, I had hoped but it seems like our plan has been found out, I wait and continue to listen to what Charlie has to say.

"You know Caelum had saved you guys from a lot of trouble, even though 'he who must not be named' has been gone for quite a while now but...

c 44

I sighed, I had a bit of hope that Charlie was talking about something else and this isn't really happening, and we really didn't get caught red-handed, but it would seem like our plan has been found out from the get-go and we aren't even getting a chance to carry it out.

I should seriously learn a spell that prevents eavesdropping, I think to myself, maybe the Muffliato Charm or the Imperturbable Charm could do.

I turn away from my thoughts and listen to what Charlie has since we are at his mercy now.

"You know, Caelum here has saved you guys from a lot of trouble, and when I say a lot I mean a whole lot."

The twins sigh, and Fred says, "Yeah we know."

Charlie looks at them frustratingly, "No you do not," The twins look at him as wondering what he wants to say, even I lean forward to listen in. "Even though 'he who must not be named' has been gone for quite a while now, everyone fears that there might be somebody else who raises up and takes 'he who must not be named' place and bring about blood, death, and chaos just like he did. So, anyone that shows even the slightest inclination of going down the same path as 'he who must not be named' would be swiftly and promptly put down with no question asked."

Charlie pauses there for a while to let what he just said sink in the twins and also to give them some time to piece together and understand what he just revealed because it is shocking even to me, but Charlie's revelation does clear up a lot of things. For one it explains why so many people were quick to believe lies about Harry Potter, in the books. People might adore him and appreciate him for taking out Voldemort when he was a baby, but when they see that lightning bolt mark on Harry's forehead not only does it bring upon a sense of respect, but it also brings fear. Fear of what he might become and accomplish when he grows up, and especially the fear that he might go down the same path as Voldemort because if he did who would be able to stop him since he was already as powerful as the greatest, terrible yes, but the greatest wizard in modern history.

But besides that, my view of Charlie keeps on getting higher and higher not only does he have skill, but he also has sight and clear understanding because not that many people can lok at things for what they are.

Anyways the revelation did sink into the twins, the aghast expressions on their faces could tell me all that I need to know.

I clear my throat and ask the question that really needs to be asked, "So what do you want to do us, tell our parents or maybe..."

Charlie held out his hand in a sort of gesture to make me stop talking, "I do not plan on doing anything to you guys," he says.

Fred and George looked shocked, I am also slightly shocked, but mostly curious about where things will go.

Charlie lets out a hearty chuckle and says, "There is no need to be shocked, I actually approve!"

"Ah, from the looks on your faces I can tell you must be wondering why I am not going to get you guys into trouble, huh."

"Ohm, yeah!" said the twins at the same time.

"Look, I can understand why Professor Hagrid is a staff member here at Hogwarts, once you get to know him you will know he is the best magizoologist around these parts once you overlook his tendency to undermine the dangers behind certain magical creatures. Professor Snape could be harsh but again just like Professor Hagrid be is the best in his field, nobody is a clever innovator in potions than him. Professor Flitwick maybe a half-goblin but once again he is the best at his field, and he is even a dueling champion. On the other hand, Filch has an extremely unpleasant personality. Despite working at a school, he hates all kids, despises most of the students and even some of the staff members."

"So, you are saying you hate him?" asks Fred before Charlie could answer George adds, "man, what has he done to get on your nerve?"

"I do not understand what the two of you are even going on about, is there like a point of Charlie and gaining his disapproval?" I ask.

"Oh, it is good that you asked now before you got on his bad side," said George. "Mh, yep because if you did you would have been in for a lifetime of suffering," added Fred. "Remember that poor muggle boy back in the town, Ottery St Catchpole?" asked Fred. "Yeah, I still get nightmares of what happened back then." I shake my head those two are now in their little world.

"So, you want us to get revenge for you?" I ask Charlie.

"What? no, no you guys can just carry out whatever you are planning, I will not be getting in your way."

I smile at him "seems to me, you want us to get a little bit of revenge for you, but whatever. All I want is some information, you have been at Hogwarts way longer than us so is there something we should watch out for?"

"There is not that much you really need to look out for except Filch and his cat, oh yeah, you should also look at for Peeves he will call Filch on to you if he sees you, other than those three, there are not that many people walking around so late, they are all asleep."

I nod my head, that was pretty much what I guessed, I look up to Charlie and say, "Thanks for the info!" He nods his head and walks to his dorm room.

I look at the twins and say, "let's get planning."

c 45

I turn back to the twins and say, "So, let's start planning!"

Fred looks at me and asks, "How are we going to go about this?" George nods his head and says, "Yeah, although Filch is going to be the only person we will have to go through, still he knows the school like the back of his hand, so ain't going to be easy at all."

Although it pains me to do this, I say "I already know that, so that is why I will be willing to take out a potion from the stockpile I have built up."

Ever since I have started to brew potions as a kid at home, I have been slowly and steadily building up a great big stockpile of potions inside my suitcase. I have always told myself that I am going to save it for a rainy day, but deep down, I know that I have really become like a stingy dragon that cannot help himself from hoarding all of his treasures. What can I say, every time I look at all that I have accumulated thanks to my hard work and dedication, it brings me great pleasure and joy and I cannot help fantasizing that one day I will not be having only basic and intermediate potions in my stockpile, but advance, rare, and even legendary potions.

The twins looked amazed that I am willing to take out a potion from my suitcase, ever since I had shown them, all the potions that I have gathered in my laboratory that is located in my suitcase, they have been begging me to let them use only one but sting old me had refuse. I told myself if I were to give in just like that and hand over a potion to them, it would not end well at all. I would do it once and then there will be a second time then a third time, it would keep on going until I am all out of potions, so I adamantly refused them.

I frustratingly look at twins who are nearly jumping in joy, take a deep breath I tell myself, it is just going to be this one time then I promise, I will never go digging into my stockpile again, but a part of me, the greedy part, is shouting, you are going down a slippery slope, you fool.

"Although it pains me, and I rather face death head on, I am willing to take out just one potion from my stockpile so that this plan can come to fruition."

George asks me with a wolfish smile on his face, "what potion are you going to take out?"

"The invisibility potion," I answer through gritted teeth, I cannot help feeling like weeping. This potion took me a lot of effort and I had only just recently been able to make two batches of them.

They look at me in surprise, "Wow, so you are willing to bring out the good stuff, man you are pulling no stops, muh?"

"I might as well bring out the good stuff" I say. "since I am going to take out a potion anyway, might as well make it something that is helpful. Anyways wipe away those grins off your faces and start spewing out ideas."

Fred speaks up and says, "We could ask Peeves for help, he could..."

I shake my head and immediately shot down that idea, "No, I wouldn't be surprised if Peeves sold us out. As much as he likes causing problem, he sure as hell likes getting people into trouble even more."

George shrugs and looks at his twin and says, "Yeah Caelum is right, Peeves is can be helpful sometimes, but he is mostly unreliable. You won't know when he might flip against you. He is chaotic like that."

"Alright, I am willing to consent to that, so what about if we transform into our animagus form and then..."

"Nope," I say while making a clear x with my hands. "That would draw way too much attention to us, two monkeys and a tiger running down the hallways, anyone with half a mind would start to get suspicious." Anyways I want to keep this a secret for as long as possible, there is no way I want to be registered with the Ministry of Magic at the Animagus Registry.

We continue to think to ourselves silently, until George speaks up hesitantly, "Tomorrow is Hogsmeade weekend trips, I don't know if that is helpful but take it or leave it."

I take that bit of info into my mind and slowly processes it, my mind spins with countless thoughts. Finally, after a while, I say "Yeah we could use that."

The twins look at me and at the same time ask, "What? Tell us"

"Wait," I say as my fingers slowly and rhythmically rap on my thigh while I think. "We could use that," I say absentmindedly.

"Stop acting so mysterious, tell us what you got!"

"Calm down, I am going to," I say. "I was thinking that during Hogsmeade weekend trips, Filch is always standing at exit examining the students' permission slip and what they bring in after they come back, right?" The twins nod their head in affirmative. "We could use that window that we have, right?"

Realization dawns upon them and they grin from ear to ear.

"I will drink the invisibility potion and then slip into Filch's office. You guys stand guard near his office but make sure you do not act dubious or that will bring us attention. Also, make sure that you guys bring Dungbombs with you, that will act as our signal for something has gone wrong."

"After that, we shall get our hands on some magical items."

c 46

"I will slip into Filch's office. I will also bring the invisibility potion with me and drink it only when it calls for it. You guys stand guard near his office and make sure you do not act dubious or you will be bringing attention upon us. Also, remember to bring Dungbombs with you. They will act as our signal if something has gone wrong, okay?"

The nod their head, showing me that they agree.

"Good, after all is done and said. We will be getting our hands on some magical items pretty soon."

Today is the day where nearly all the third-year students and beyond are heading to the Hogsmeade village which is just outside Hogwarts gate.

The twins and I look out from on top of the stairwell as the students head outside into Hogsmeade village, only after being rigorously checked over and then over again by Filch.

We look at each other and nod our heads to each other, "Let's get going!" I say and then we head over to where Filch's office is located.

Just below the First floor and above the Dungeons is the Ground Floor. This floor is massive, you could find most of the courtyards, the Great Hall, the Entrance Hall, the Portrait Room, and much more. On the Ground Floor, there is a wide marble staircase opposite that is the oak doors, this here is the Entrance Hall where the Suits of armor are located.

Far away in a little corner, you can find Filch's office which the three of us have made our way to.

I look at the two of them, Fred and George, then ask. "Did you bring with you the Dungbombs?" They both nod their head. I continue to give them reminders like a worried old nanny, "Good make sure you set it off only if something goes wrong or if Filch comes back. Which I doubt since he will be wanting to stand at the exit/entrance to make sure nobody brings in anything fishy."

"Let's see, is there anything else that I have missed?" I ask the twins. I look at me for a while, expecting an answer or a shake of the head.

Fred speaks up, "there is nothing else, mom, now get inside Filch's office before he comes back. You are killing a lot of time." He says in a half-joking and half-exhausted tone. Well, I guess he must be tired of me repeating the plan a million times these past two days. What can I say, I love it when a plan comes together smoothly and for that to happen, everyone must carry out their part as exactly described.

"Okay, okay I am going in!" I say and wave my hands in a gesture of sorts, telling them to slow their horses and calm down. We are on the eve of greatness here.

I move out and right before I reach my hand out to touch the door knob, I turn one last time to look at the twins. I give them a wink just to annoy them for the heck of it.

I grab the door knob and try to turn it, but it does not budge. Must be locked I think, a smile splits my mouth, this is going to be too easy.

I take out my wand and then make the correct wand movement, a circle with a line that crosses the middle, and say the incantation.

~Alohomora~

The door clicks open, no wonder wizard and witches call this charm a Thief's Friend. I turn to the twins and give them a thumb up in a sort of gesture meaning there is no need to worry.

I slowly open the door and then head inside the office.

As I stick my head in I am greeted to the sight of a small and simple room with a single oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. I sniff the air and notice that fried fish permeates throughout the air in the room. There is a desk in the middle of the room and on it is well-polished chains and manacles. There is a small boiler in one corner and an old worn out sofa in another corner. In the back, there are sheets halfway coving what looks like a small bed.

I stop checking out the room and look at the filing cabinets which are covering every corner of the room. I head over to them and look inside. In it are details of all the misdeeds Hogwarts students have carried out. Creep or not, somebody needs to help this guy get a new hobby.

I cast a casual glance at all the filing cabinets looking for the one I have come here for. Then my eyes fall upon one cabinet that is marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

Yes! I shout inside my mind. I have found it. I briskly walk up to the filing cabinets marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous" and open it.

Inside our all matter of items, ranging from big to small, heavyset to lightweight, ordinary to peculiar.

I look at all these items up for choosing. I cannot help myself from wanting to taking it all and shoving it into my robe, but I have only so many pockets.

I look around the cabinet. First of all, I mentally cross off all the toys inside like the fanged frisbee, the nose-biting teacup, the dragon model, exploding snap, and much more. NO toys I tell myself.

Next, I look at the things which obviously just trash.

Finally, I coss out the items that are practically useless in my eyes since they can be found in any store.

With the toys, the trash, and the useless items mentally crossed off, that cuts thing down a lot, all the to a little over 10%. The only thing left now is the rare good.

c 47

With the toys, the trash, and the useless items mentally crossed off my list, that really cuts down things by a lot, all the way to a little over 10%. The only things left now are the rare good.

The first thing I take out from the filing cabinets is the Marauders Map. I already clearly know what this is and what it can do. I stuff it into one of my pockets in my robe.

The next item I pick up is a Mokeskin pouch. These are very rare goods, you could use it for storing items, which nobody but the owner can take out. It appears quite small on the outside, but it has an enchantment which allows it to have much greater carrying capacity than any Muggle pouch of comparable size out there.

I wonder if it already has an owner. I try to open it and it does open, seems like nobody owners it. I wonder how Filch got his hands on it. I look inside the pouch and see that it is empty. I shrug my shoulder, beggars can't be choosers, I joke. I close it up and put it away into one of my robe pockets. I could give it to one of the twins since I already have a suitcase as big as an island inside.

I pick around in the cabinet and take out the next goodies, a handheld vintage lamp. The lamp looks very old and rusted. I would have even passed it off as trash if I hadn't seen those swirly little lines which run over the whole surface of the lamp. I look closely at it and recognize the lines, thay are runes.

This a very interesting find, I say to myself, I wonder what it does. I look for anything to get it up and running then I notice a switch. I flip the switch on and then the lamp starts to glow a blue cool fluorescent light. I look around and see that nothing else has happened. Mh, it seems like I will need to research this lamp a bit more. I stuff it as well into my robe pocket. When I bought this robe, I made sure to add as many pockets as I could. What can I say, a robe without a handful of pockets is not a proper robe at all!

I see a silver chain bracelet that coils around three times and at both ends of the chain there are two snakeheads with tiny emerald eye sockets. I look at it and wonder what this new toy does. I try pressing down upon the eye sockets to see if that would do the trick, but it does not work. I try opening each of the snakes' mouth, but it is wedged tight. I also try banging it on to the floor to see if it would do something, anything, but it also does not work. I look at it for a while and ponder, maybe it actives on command, I guess.

Open Sesame! I say out loud, I always wanted to say that and who really doesn't. The snake-headed chain bracelet still sits upon my palm with no sign of movement like it is telling me, you are an idiot!

Well, let's see who the idiot is when I finally figure you out. I start spewing out words with madness in my eyes.

Jump! Fly! Open! Do something!

None of the commands I give works and I feel like giving up, but the way the chain bracelet peacefully sits on top of my palm, infuriates me. I guess, I had started to lose my marbles. One more time, I urge myself.

Unlock! Nothing, two more times, I plead to myself. I have to beat this damn chain into submission.

Go! At that command, the chain bracelet flies out of my hand and wraps around the closest thing, one of the filing cabinet. I jump back in fright, nearly tripping over, thanks to my own shoes. Holy Shit! I say with my eyes wide eyed in amazement.

I calm my racing heart down and slowly walk around filing cabinet. The chain that was no more than 6 inches is now a good 2 meters long from my estimate. It has split into two silver colored snakes with emerald colored eyes. They both are wrapped around the filing cabinet in a death grip. I continue walking around the cabinet as see that both of the snakes have become so lifelike. I carefully touch one of them and it hisses back at me.

I raise my hand in a sort of gesture which means, I meant no harm. "Wow, guys are sure look like a sight!" I say to the snakes. The snakes ignore me and continue to slowly wrap around the filing cabinet. The cabinet starts to creak under all that pressure that those two snakes are exerted upon it.

That filing cabinet would be finished if I don't stop these two, I think. What would Filch do if he saw his cabinet shredded into pieces? He will know as soon as that, somebody has been inside his office. I need to get these two snakes off the filing cabinet.

I gulp loudly, what if I end up like that filing cabinet? A part of me shouts, let those two snakes trash that filing cabinet, you on the other hand, get out! The professor can deal with it.

No way! Another part of me shouts. We will be found out.

I weigh my options and know that I have to get these snakes back to their chain bracelet form. The risk of Fred, George, and I being found out is too high if we leave like this.

I look at the two snakes and say. "Why don't you two get back to your chain form for daddy, huh?"

The snakes don't even turn to my direction, they just continue on coiling around the filing cabinet.

My patience starts to thin. I shout at the two snakes this time. "Come back, here!" This time my command works. The two snakes fly back to me and as they get closer and closer they get smaller and smaller. Finally, the same snake-headed chain bracelet lands upon my palm. I think I should call it a shape-shifting snake chain.

c 48

I look at the shape-shifting snake chain which is now peacefully resting upon my palm.

I wipe away the saliva that felt like it was building up at the corner of my mouth. It seems like daddy got himself a brand-new killer toy! I gleefully say to myself.

I carefully and attentively massage the chain like you would rub a pet or little child. I start fantasizing letting these two precarious snakes coil around my enemies and crushing them to death. I let out an evil chuckle at that.

After a while, I wake up from my fantasy and give the chain a light quick kiss on one of the snakeheads. I carefully put the shape-shifting snake chain on to my left wrist and then get back to looking for more treasures.

I stick my head back into the filing cabinet marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous." I start to look around again until my eyes landed upon three peculiar stones.

They were not your average stones found on the roadside or else they would not have grabbed my attention. No, they were very unusual and mysterious. I picked up the first one. It was a pure black stone one, and it felt as if, it was sucking away all the light near it. The other one was a blue stone, which kept on slowly pulsing rhythmically. The third one was a green stone, that radiated a pure life aura, if I could word it like that, when it touched my hand.

Very mysterious indeed, I muse. I will have to ask my mother what these stones are, when I get back home this summer.

I shove the three unfathomable stone in another one of my robe pockets.

The next item that greeted my greedy little hands was an orb that was caramel colored. As I was looking over the caramel tinted orb, I heard a big BOOM! After that, a putrid odor seeped through the cracks under the door and then wafted throughout the whole office.

Shit! I yell to myself, that must have been the Dungbomb that has gone off.

I hastily put the caramel colored orb into my robe pocket. Then I close the filing cabinet marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous" but before that, I take an 8-sided compass that is in the cabinet, which just draws my attention. I quickly search through my pockets looking for the potion. My right-hand touches a cold flask in my inner left pocket.

Aha! Here is it, the invisibility potion.

I swiftly uncork the flask with the silver colored potion inside and then I gulp down the whole bubbly content in one go. I bring my right hand up to my eye level and watch as it slowly blends in with the environment, until I can only see a faint outline of my hands. I scoff to myself, this should not be called the lesser invisibility potion but the camouflage potion. No wonder people prefer an invisibility cloak, it is to much of a drag to make the rare greater invisibility potion.

I look around the room and ponder to myself, should I run for it now or hide until the danger passes. My mind quickly starts to rationalize things.

I don't know what the danger is or if it is coming to the room anytime soon and the invisibility potion only lets me be invisibility for about 10 minutes.

Escape it is, I choose. The twins must have bought me some time with the dungbombs they have set up, it now or never.

How the hell do I escape then, I muse to myself. I cannot just open the door and head out. Anybody that might be in front of the door would get suspicious if the door had opened by itself and they saw a shimmering outline of something.

I look around the office one more time, looking for another escape route that would help me get away unnoticed. Then my eyes pinpoint something that I have totally missed.

A cat flap!

Haha! Who would have ever thought that a cat flap would become my lifeline today?

With my mind quickly formulates a plan and I carry it out.

I will myself to transform into my Animagus form.

The White Tiger!

It takes nearly a good minute of painful transformation for me to take on my Animagus form. I really need to do more training, I say frustratingly to myself. Now I only have less than nine minutes left until the potion's effect wear off.

Anyways I have now, finally turned into my proper form of the white tiger. When my new form is revealed. I look no bigger than a cat with white fur and black stripes. I have silver eyes and a few specks of golden hair on top of my crown. My tail wipes around and I scratch my itching upper mouth with my paw, must these new whiskers I have grown. I catch sight of myself on a mirror, and my spirit hits rock bottom. Even in my tiger form, which should look majestic. I look like a cute cuddlable creature. I do not know whether I should cry or laugh.

It ain't so bad, I argue. When I grow up, just like the white tiger, I will not be a cute creature any more but a lofty one.

I make my way to the cat flap and slowly stick my head out and survey the surrounding.

My head whipped around left and right, I saw nobody around. Mh? Now, this is interesting. No twins, no Filch, and not a single soul in sight.

I can ponder about this, when I get back to the Gryffindor common room, I voice to myself.

I pass through the cat flap and quickly make my way, far away from the crime scene.

As I slowly prowl the hallways in my Animagus form, I make sure to check for danger. Something smells fishy. Why did Fred and George set off the dungbombs after that they are not around, this makes no sense.

Did they do it for the heck of it? That sure as hell fits the bill for the two of them. No, they know that this is an important mission and for all the years I have known them for they know when to play around and when not to.

My thoughts continue to race as I make my way to the Gryffindor tower.

c 49

My thoughts continue to race as I make my way to the Gryffindor tower.

As I finally climbed up to the sixth floor my invisibility potion starts to wear off.

The damn book, I curse, it clearly stated that the invisibility potion should last me a good ten minutes. It has only been a good five minutes, not ten. I am never going to trust in the fine print, I promise myself.

Anyways I am nearly at Gryffindor tower, just one more flight of stairs and then I will be in the home stretch.

As I turn a corner, I notice Filch's dust-colored cat, Mrs Norris. She too notices me, and we stare at each other for a while. I try to act as cat-like as possible and meow.

The damn beast does not move an inch. Instead, it surveys me with its yellow colored eyes.

I try again to ask it if it could stop blocking the passage.

Meow, meow! I say to the unpleasant cat. Move over you dang thing, I think.

As an animagus not only do you have the rare ability to transform into a particular animal at will. You could also slightly communicate with other animals. I have no idea how it works at all, but you just talk to them and understand them, when you are in your animagus form.

What is wrong with this annoying cat, I think, when I see that it is not budging an inch. I take a closer look at her and see that she is smiling. I immediately recognize what type of smile it is, an evil smile.

Meow, meow! She says to me.

I take in what she has said to me and try to interpret it as best I can, it turns out to be. "You must be that vile human you has hit me with blue light."

I gulp, she has recognized me.

"Kehkehkehe! I am going enjoy skinning you alive, damn human!" She adds as her claws extend out.

I back away slowly and carefully. "Why don't we talk about this, huh?" I ask while I am really looking for an escape route. What else could I do, it would take nearly a good minute for me to transform back to my human form. During that time this foul cat will scratch me to death.

"Over my dead body, human!" She says and jumps at me.

I quickly dodge to the left. I thankfully escape from that right cat swipe, but I trip over my own tail.

Damn, I am still not used to this new form.

Mrs Norris whips her head around to face me and growls. "Stay still for me, human so I could get you." She says to me.

Fuck how unreasonable can you be? Do you want to stay still for you, just so you could give me a beating!

I quickly get up from the pathetic heap of limbs and tails I was in.

Mrs Norris leapt at me. I did the one thing she did not expect, I run at her.

The shocked expression on her stupid cat face was priceless as I quickly run under her belly and then down the stairway.

"Come back here, human and fight me." I hear Mrs Norris yell behind me.

Who said anything about fighting you, you stupid cat. I think evilly.

With each jump, I briskly take three or four stair steps. Not daring to look back at all or slow down for that matter. Since I know for sure that the black-hearted cat is on my tail.

I jump off the final stair step and run down the Fifth-floor corridor. While dashing through the corridor, I crane my neck around looking for a place to lose that cat.

My mind rapidly fires one idea after another. Not the art room or the music room, I think, I will just box myself inside with that cat and I would have no way to escape.

Let's see if I remember correctly, this floor here should be connected to the hospital tower. Yes, I could lose there, in the hospital tower.

I make a left turn and end up in front of the Prefects' bathroom.

Shit that was a wrong turn.

I quickly turn around and try to run for it, but Mrs Norris is standing in front of me.

I quickly stop myself from bumping into her. "Hey why don't we..." Before I could finish what I was saying, Mrs Norris dashes up to me. I try to swerve to one side and I almost succeed but her claw manages to graze my flank.

Hot pain shoots through my mind and I see red. Shitty little cat, I howl. You will pay for that, I promise.

I extend my claws and take a swipe at her since she is so close to me.

While the two of us are fighting. We do not notice that a portrait is hanging across from us. The resident inside the portrait is shocked with the cat fight going on, right below him. Since he himself cannot physically stop it, he starts to yell at the top of his lungs.

A large booming voice comes from the corner. "What is going on Timothy?"

Hagrid fully bearded face sticks out from around the corner.

The answer he is looking for is right in front of him.

"Blimey, I will be damned!" Hagrid shouts, he quickly grabs the scruff of Ms Norris and picks her up, all the way up to his own eye level.

"I know yeh be trouble, been 'specting it all along." Hagrid shakes his head and his great buffy beard also shakes. "Now get out of here, before I whomp yeh ass!" He adds and throws her away, she hisses at Hagrid. Hagrid takes on look at her and she scurries away.

Hagrid turns to look at me and I act like a scared little creature.

"Ar' yeh alright little one, she must have done a number on yeh. Come here." He says while holding out his pan-sized hands.

I continue with my act since I do not want to give myself away. I take a careful step on to Hagrid palm and he picks me up.

"It is goin' to be alrigh' little one I will fix you up at my hut."

c 50

It was only during the next day that I got a general rundown of what happened yesterday. I heard whispers and telltale from what had gone down from the students throughout the Gryffindor common room and the school.

From what I could gather, the twins have set off a dungbomb right at Filch, as he was making his way to his office.

Filch started to chase them throughout the whole school. All around the school's hallways, you could see an enraged, foul-smelling Filch chasing two students with a broom like an angry shrew. To make matters even worse, Peeves saw the commotion that was going on and decided to join in on the fun. He started to drop water balloons on top of Filch's head, he pelted Filch with chalk, and he even pulled the rugs right from under him.

Finally, Professor McGonagall showed up and put an end to all the mayhem.

The damage was done, all the students got to see a wet, bruised, smelly, chalked full, caretaker. He also had a swollen red nose that was from Peeves when he snuck up on to him while he was invisible, and then he grabbed Filch's nose and screamed, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

"So, what is your punishment going to be?" I asked the twins who were seated in front of me. Right now, we are in our dorm room on top of Fred's bed. There are just so many people who wanted to congratulate and speak to the twins, downstairs in the common room.

"It is not that bad. We will just be having detention for the rest of the year with Filch." Answered Fred as he shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly.

I looked at them with pity plastered onto my face and said. "Filch is going to make sure that he makes you guys suffer, you know that right?"

They look at me like I am was a fool. George speaks up and say. "What can he do, Professor Dumbledore does not allow pain to be inflicted on to students at Hogwarts, so besides some light work, what else can he do."

I shake my head, the phrase 'ignorance is bliss' really sums up their situation, I think to myself.

They twins shake my awake from my reverie with their incessant chattering. "What were you able to find in Filch's office?" They both ask at the same time with starlight in their eyes.

"Calm down!" I say to them and gesture with my hand for them to settle down.

"You have no idea what I have gone through to get these items from Filch's office!" I say with a sigh.

They both look at me in disbelief and snort. Fred speaks up in a sarcastic tone. "Come on man, all you did was sneak in and out of Filch's office. We on the other hand," He points at himself and his twin. "Were chased throughout the whole school!"

Fuck this daddy, here was in a life or death battle.

I angrily show them the scar that the vile cat gave me. It was three cat scratches that ran down my left hip. When the twins saw the cat scratches, they loudly gasped and asked me what happened.

I puff up myself and retell what happened yesterday.

It was a great tale, though I might have muddled some of the facts, but who cares when you have a story about an epic cat brawled, because really, who here can say that they have been in an actual cat fight.

After I finish telling my epic sage to the twins, which now that I really think about it, it should be written and published as a novel. I don't know maybe something with a cat in the title. Cat Tales! Cat Brawl! Eh! Whatever I will find a ghostwriter some other time. (author: Is he talking about me?)

Anyways even after I finished my telling my story, the twins are still astonished, shocked, and outraged. Finally, Fred spoke up first. "Man, we need to do something about that cat!" George nods his head to that.

I disregard it. "We will get that cat when the time is right. Now then let get back to the treasures, I have stolen from Filch's office."

At that, the twins settled down and stared at me expectantly, so that I could hurry up with taking out the items from Filch's office.

I slowly take out all the items I stole from Filch's office so that I could build up the atmosphere. One by one, I take out the items from my robe. First I take out the marauders map, then the ancient runic lamp, after that the shape-shifting snake chain, next the three aura, inspiring stones, then the mokeskin pouch, after that the caramel colored orb, and finally the eight-sided compass. I lay all of them right in front of us.

The twins closely survey all the items with enthusiasm. The slowly and carefully look over each and every item, one by one with huge stupid smiles on their faces

Fred looks away from the magical items and asks me. "Do you know what they do?" George also looks away from the items and looks at me waiting for an answer.

I wave my hand in a so-so gesture. "I know what three of them do, but for the rest, I do not have a clue."

"Well hurry up and tell us!" Both of them said.

"Sure, but to be fair, I should have the rights to first pick. I did go through the most danger, and I have a scar to even prove it."

I can see them visibly grit their teeth. "Fine!" they both consent to. I smile happily.

I pick out the shape-shifting snake chain for myself. Why not, this so far is the most dangers object in my eyes. The rest of the items may be as badass, but I do not know what they can do, so snake chain it is for me.

c 51

As soon as I got my shape-shifting snake chain, I sighed in relief and started to rub the chain lovingly.

"What does that one, that you have picked out, able to do?" The twins inquired.

I took a short glance at them trying to convey that I am busy here. Then I got back to petting my shape-shifting snake chain. Who cares about what these two are blabbering on and on about. When daddy here, was able to get you back and is now able to keep you forever.

"Hey!" George yelled and snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Are you even in there Caelum?"

I spin around on to them, then asked in an irritated tone. "Can't you give a man and his loved one some privacy?"

"You do know that the chain bracelet is not alive, right?" Fred asked in a worried tone. I think, he believes that I have lost my marbles.

I clicked my tongue in displeasure. These fools do not even have a clue about how awesome and fearsome my snake chain. I guess I will have to show them an example.

I stare at the twins and ask in a solemn tone. "Do you truly, want to see the true prowess of my snake chain?" They nod their head slowly, unsure of where I am going with this. "Watch closely, and make sure to broaden your minds and allow your eyes to see past the mundane! Because today, you shall see true greatness!" I say to the twins nearly yelling at the top of my lungs near the end there.

They both look at each other with their eyebrows raised in skepticism.

Well, let's see how the two of you look when you see what my snake chain can do.

I place the shape-shifting snake chain on to my left wrist and make sure to point it in a safe direction, then I said the activation command. "GO!"

The chain flew out of my wrist and coil around the dressing drawer I pointed it at. The twins loudly exhaled. They get off from the bed, then they went as close as possible to the two snakes and stared at them in fascination.

"What kind of magical item is this?" Fred asked me with a hint of craving in his tone.

"I call it, a shape-shifting snake chain," I answered back with haughtiness ringing in my voice.

George looks at me with hunger in his eyes. "Caelum, my good old buddy! What do you say to a little trade, huh? I am willing to trade you this shape-shifting snake chain for my pick. How does that sound?"

Fred snorts and waggas his index finger at his twin. "My dear twin, you sure have become stingy. I am willing to trade two of my items for this shape-shifting snake chain."

Before George could answer back, I spoke up and said. "Sorry guys, but there is just no way I could give you my little baby. I and it are connected by fate. So…"

I peeked at them as I was giving them a bull shit answer and my skin crawls when I saw the looks on their faces. They really looked like they were ready to beat me, just so that they could have my item.

I hurriedly cleared my throat and said in a friendly voice. "You guys still did not look at the other items, you know that right?"

I pounded my chest, acting like I am the most trustworthy person ever and added. "I can guarantee you that they are just as good as my item and some are even better."

Before they could ask any question, I briskly grabbed their elbows and guided them away from the dressing drawer and back where the items where.

"Don't worry about anything," I said straightening my back. "I will make sure to explain everything. This here is the Marauders Map, it reveals to you all of Hogwarts grounds. What I mean is that you will not only get to see every classroom, every hallway, and every corner of the castle but also every secret passage in the school and the location of every person. Next here, is the Mokeskin pouch, it may look like a small bag, but it is enchanted to allow it to have a much greater carrying capacity than any Muggle pouch of comparable size. Also, nobody but the owner can get anything out from it."

I look at the twins who are very interested in the two items I just described, but they do not have the same sparkle in their eyes as they had when they saw my snake chain.

I internally cry, if I leave things at that and say I don't know what the rest can do. We will be back at the same standstill. Sigh, why did I have to open my big mouth and brag? I really put myself in a situation where I cannot get out.

My mind spins with ideas, and it comes to only one. I need to go for the broke!

Sorry, bros but I want my little snaky.

"Next is this lamp, once I saw it, I immediately recognise what it was. A soul trapping lamp! There is so much history behind this lamp. For starters, it was once held by a powerful dark wizard, who used it to trap the souls of many muggles and wizards." I took a quick glance at the twins and saw that they were really interested.

So, I continued on with more vigour. "Next is this caramel colored orb, which actually contains a storm." I picked up the next item and saw that it was the 8-sided compass, damn why did I pick this useless one, it does not look amazing at all. Forget it, I already competed to this, so I might as well go through.

"This 8-sided compass is very rare it is able to point you back home no matter what. There was an interesting tale that comes with it..."

"Wait, I thought you did not know what these items could do?" Fred suddenly asked suspiciously. I paused mid-speech and looked at them nervously.

George also looked at me suspiciously and slowly said. "If I remember correctly you said, you do not have a clue about what these items do."

c 52

George looked at me suspiciously and slowly said. "If I remember correctly you said, you do not have a clue about what these items can do."

I broke out in a cold sweat.

"Ahem..." is all I could give as an answer.

I glance at them at the corner of my eyes and see that suspicion is mounting.

Shit, I have truly been caught with my hands in the cookie jar!

Think about something, anything and quickly, I urge my mind. Ideas swirl around in my head, and then I latch on to one particular idea.

The half-truth is the one that I have decided upon.

I look at them solemnly and say. "I have lied to the both of you!"

"Uh?" The two brothers say. They must be shocked, incensed, and confused with what I have said and the only thing that can sum up all that for them is the simple, UH!

I repeat soberly, "I have lied to the both of you!"

Fred speaks up in a tone that shows he is a bit angry but mostly curious. "What do you mean, Caelum?" He asks with his eyebrows raised.

I peered at him with my most earnest face. "What I have said is what mean."

I put a hand on to both of their shoulders and put on a sorrowful face. "I have let greed cloud my mind! I have let it get the best of me!"

I take my hand back and use it to cover my face, to try to convey genuine sadness. I actually do it so that they can have time to understand what I have truly said.

I peek through the slit of my fingers and see that recognition has dawned upon their face.

Now time to change tactics.

"We have all been in the wrong," I nod my head sagely. "I have tried to lie to you guys, and you guys have tried to beat me up and steal my belonging."

Before they could form a though, I whisk them along. "No, no, do not try to deny it. It is human nature to make mistakes. You guys are not bad people. I am not a bad person. It is just human frailty."

"Now let not ruin a good decade of friendship over some worldly possessions, okay?"

I look at each of them in tow. They both nod their heads slowly, still not having been caught up to what is exactly going on.

"Good, let's apologize to each other and leave it at that. We will also make sure to never mention it ever again."

I start with the apology, and they quickly pick up with it.

I evilly laugh to myself, when I see that they both have bought the rubbish I spewed out. That will teach both of them, to never have thoughts about daddy's toys. You two are far too young to play against this one. A good fifteen years to be exact.

If they ever think about it again, they will rationalize it by themselves. We tried to beat up Caelum, who has risked his life and limb to get these magical items. So, it is only fair that he tried to lie to us when he saw that we were ungrateful. Regardless of it all, he was able to admit when he was caught and make amends quickly. We, on the other hand, did not even notice what we did wrong and were only able to mirror his example after he has shown true wisdom.

"Good, now we have apologized to each other, we can get back to picking out our reward." At that, the twins turn to the magical item just waiting to pounce. All though about what went down gone.

"Let do things fairly, first gets the first pick in round one choosing, the second one gets the second pick in round one, and the third one gets the third pick in round one. For the second round of choosing, third get the first pick, second gets the second pick, and first gets the third pick. Finally, for the third round of choosing, second gets the first pick, third gets the second pick, and first gets the third pick. How does that sound?"

The bob their head in agreement. "Good, I am first, who want to be second?" I ask while looking at the two of them.

They look at each other, and George shrugs his shoulders in a gesture meaning he does not care. Fred looks at his twin and inclines his head. "I will be second he says."

"Then pick out your item!"

We start to divide the magical item between ourselves.

Fred takes the caramel colored orb then George takes the lamp. In the next round, George takes the marauders map, Fred takes the mokeskin pouch, and me I take the 8-sided compass just to be fair since I have no idea what it can do. In the final round, Fred takes the black stone, George takes the green stone, and I take the last stone the blue stone.

"So what do these three stones do," asked Fred.

I am feeling slightly guilty about lying to them about the lamp and orb. And when I say somewhat, I mean very slightly, since they have the looks about them, of wanting to beat me up for my snake chain. I tell them the truth.

"I have no idea, but keep them with you at all times, they might show their true worth in your hour of need. Also, I will ask my mother."

The twins seemed undeterred with the answer I have given them. Might be the preaching, I have done just recently, still running its course.

Fred looks at me and say. "Well, now that we are famous, we could start that joke shop you have always been talking about, Caelum."

c 53

Fred looked over at me and said. "Well, now that we are pretty famous, we could get started on that joke shop, you have always been talking about, right Caelum?"

"Uh..." Do these two really want to kill me, we just did a heist and now you want to open an illegal shop in the school.

George bobs his head up and down in excitement. "Yeah, we could finally fulfil our dreams, and I know the perfect spot that we could set up shop."

Fred looks at his brother in amazement. All he asks him was "Really?"

"Yep, there is this disused bathroom on the sixth floor of Hogwarts castle. It is really well hidden, and nobody ever goes there, so we could use that lavatory to open a joke shop. there"

I hold up my hand, in a gesture telling them to slow down for a bit. "Wow, wow, wow. Slow down there, we are under heavy observation here, from Filch. If we do something, anything for that matter, that is suspicious or like what the two of you are planning. Filch will come in and bust our ass before we could say a word."

The twins pause when they hear what I have said.

Fred speaks up in a nonchalant tone. "Stop being a worry wart, Caelum. Didn't you hear what George has said? The place is well hidden, and nobody ever goes there. I really don't think Filch even knows where this bathroom is located."

I feel irritated that these two are going to get me into a bigger mess, but they have a point. If this bathroom is well hidden and has proper defenses in place, there will be no way for Filch to be able to find his way our new shop.

I look at George and ask, "Where did you get this information from anyways?"

George immediately answered back, "Peeves told me!"

Of course, he did, I should have known. He is the only information source the two of you got, I think to myself.

"Well, do you know how to get to this secret bathroom?" I ask George.

George nods his head, "Yeah let me guide the two of you there."

I shake my head, "Show us tomorrow, did you forget that it is late now. Also, people might follow us since the two of you are now well known."

Fred looks out the window and says, "Wow, I totally forget how late it is."

George look at me skeptical way, "Why would people follow us?"

"It is the price for fame, my friends" I answer. You have no idea how bad it can get, fame — Paparazzi and what not would be following people ever where.

I try to stifle a yawn as I head off to the restroom to freshen up.

Tomorrow we can see if this bathroom would be ideal to set up our new shop.

The next day, Fred and I followed George, who leads us down to the Glanmore Peakes' Corridor, which is a passage on the sixth-floor of Hogwarts Castle, located a bit off of the sixth-floor corridor.

The corridor is called Glanmore Peakes' Corridor because it is named after Glanmore Peakes, whose portrait hangs there.

"Come on!" George waved at me and Fred as he turned a corner and come to a head at an old wooden blue door, that could really use a good repair, I reflect.

Fred walks ahead and tries to open the door, but it does not budge an inch. Fred looks at his twin for an answer.

All George does is point at the portrait hanging right next to the wooden door. In it is a man who looks to be in his fifties, he has a white skin tone, blue colored eyes, and red-orangish hair. He is dressed in a blue pirate outfit that comes with a hat, and he is holding a short sword in his hand.

I quickly catch on to what George means and walk up to the portrait. The man in the portrait looks at me and asks in a gruffy voice. "Wha' do yo wants, lad?"

I speak in my most polite tone since I am the one who needs something from this man. "I was just wondering, who you are, good sir?"

At that question, the flood gate of this man's mouth opens wide. "Th' name be Glanmore Peakes! Killer o' the' Sea Serpent o' Cromer, a giant monstrosity that lived off th' shores o' Cromer, Norfolk 'n was makin' trouble thar. Thanks, t' that deed, I got meself a Famous Wizard Card fashioned aft me."

I clear my voice to try to slow him down. I stop with the pleasantry and get to my point as quick as possible, before he drowns us to death with the incessant talking. "I was wondering if you, good sir, could open this door and let us in?"

Glanmore shook his head. "No can do, lad! Yo either know the password, or you don't."

I look at the twins waiting for an answer, and from the blank looks on their faces, I could guess that they don't have a clue. Shit! It looks like it is up to me alone, to figure this one out.

I turn to stare up at the portrait of Glanmore, from what I could gather, unless it is an important place that is under heavy guard like the portrait of the fat lady. The password is mostly related to the portrait.

I slowly rub my chin and think, then a thought hits me as quick as that. With cunning in my eyes, I ask Glanmore, "Glanmore what was the creature that you killed?"

Glanmore loudly laughs, "O' yo mean th' Sea Serpent o' Cromer!" Glanmore pause and his smile slackens, "Oh... I shouldn't have said that."

I smile wickedly, "Sea Serpent!" The door of the bathroom slowly cracks open.

c 54

Glanmore laughed loudly, "O' yo mean th' Sea Serpent o' Cromer!" Glanmore pauses and his smile slackens, "Oh... I shouldn't have said that."

I smile wickedly, thank you very much mister pirate, for telling me the password, I shout in my mind while doing fist pumps.

Still, with that evil smile on my face, I speak the password to Glanmore. "Sea Serpent!"

The door of the bathroom slowly cracks open.

The twins turn to Glanmore and start bowing and scraping. "Thank you, good sir, for telling us the password, we are truly in your debt!" They say in a high pitched toned like they are heralds announcing the king's arrival, but smirks on their faces say other ways.

I regard the three of us and reflect amusingly. No wonder the three of us get along so well, we really look and act like proper villains.

Glanmore looked at us, vexed then said, "Get inside, lads, before I shut the door close!"

"Alright we are going inside, but really, thanks for the telling us the password, even if it was an accident," I say to the man in the portrait. Even if he did not mean it, he did us a nice favor and for that, he has my wholehearted gratitude.

Glanmore turned away from us, while he clears his throat, from the corner of my eye I can see that he has a light blush on his face. Who knew that pirates could fell embarrassed.

I speak to Glanmore but this time in a serious tone. "Glanmore, please make sure you do not blabber to every single person who comes around here, about your life story. You will basically be telling them the password."

The twins vigorously nod their heads, when I say that to Glanmore. Fred speaks up, "Yeah, a lot of people are going to come here now, to see our new shop and some of them will not have the best of intentions. You cannot just blabber away the only thing that his going to defend this place."

Glanmore looked like he is really ready to jump out of his portrait and then give the three of us a good beating, but I guess, he noticed he couldn't. So, he went for the next best thing, threatening. "Get inside, before I stick all yo with the pointy end of my sword." He says to us seething, while wave around his short sword in the portrait.

The three of us laugh at the attempt Glanmore had made to get out of his portrait, while we run inside into the bathroom.

From behind us, I think I heard him use curses that are not for children's ears to hear.

I cast the Wand-Lighting Charm and so do the twins since there is not a single light source to speak off in this place. When we do light our wands, I notice that there are candlelight lamps hanging all around the lavatory, but they seem to not be working at all.

As we look around the place, we were greeted to the unpleasant sight of an old rusty, dust-filled, dirty, and smelly bathroom that is major disrepair which really looks to me like a ruin than a bathroom.

The whole place is a round room. Right in the middle of the bathroom are the remains of what used to be a fountain. I say remains because the whole middle section is gone, all that is left is the outer section and there is nothing else in there but trash.

On the right side of the bathroom are two large blue stained glass windows that show a good view of the forbidden forest but the glass is covered in dust and spider webs.

On the left side of the bathroom is all the bathroom stall, which adds up to a grand total of seven. I open them all and see that they are all dirty and filled with garbage.

From across the door we entered from there is another door opposite us, I wonder where it leads I think to myself. Around the sides of the opposite door, three sinks line it from the right side and another three line its left side.

"We really got our work cut out for us!" Said George, after we finished looking around the whole place.

Fred nodded his head, "Yeah this place is no better than a junkyard."

"I agree with you, Fred but this place is well hidden, and it is protected by Glanmore. I do not think we can find any other place that would be better than what we have right now. So, stop complaining, because this will be as good as it gets." I say and look each of them in the eyes. I really mean what I have said, this place could use a lot of cleaning up. After we are done, we could get our shop set up here since it is a pretty good place.

I look around the place, man just as George said, our work is cut out for us. I turn to the twins and ask, "Do you guys know any cleaning spells?"

The nod their head, with that I sigh in relief. Good, I do not have to waste time and teach them some, I say to myself.

"Alright get started, I am going to see if I could get those candle lights lamps working." I say to them and without looking back I head towards the candlelight lamps hanging around the bathroom.

I go up to the first one, I point my wand at it candlelight lamp and wave my wand in the correct movement and say the incantation. Then I breath at my wand and a stream of bright orange light flies out from it to the candlelight. This is a neat little spell I picked up over the Christmas holiday from my mother collection called the 'Breathing Light' spell.

c 55

We spend the whole day of our Sunday, cleaning up the place.

The only times we went out to take a break was to go downstairs to the dining hall and have our meals.

Other than that, we spent the whole day, dishing out cleaning spells from our wands like the Tergeo charm. Which does the job of siphons off any liquid, such as blood, dust or grease, off of the target you point your wand at.

The other spell we used rigorous was the Scouring Charm. This spell is used to make nearly ever object squeaky clean. The spell is really fun since you can fill a person with soapy bubbles.

Fred was the first person that started firing the Scouring spell and it hit George square in the face. When he opened his mouth, soap filled it. After that, it was all out war between the three of us.

Finally, after our battle was finished, we looked at the wreckage we caused. The entire bathroom was saturated with soap and the three of us were not that much better off.

"Why don't we call it a day?" asked George as we were sitting on the edge of what remained of the fountain.

I looked outside from the blue stained-glass window and see that it is late into the evening.

"Yeah, I agree with you, twin. Even with all this soap piled on top of me, I still feel so grimy." Fred added, and I have to completely agree with what he has said. I feel so itchy and I also feel like that I have not showered for months on end.

"Well, it late anyways so let just go get showered and continue with this tomorrow." I voice, the twins eagerly nod their head and we head off to the Gryffindor tower.

I, Fred, and George came back the next, which was a Monday, after all our classes were done for the day. We got right back into cleaning up the place.

That day we had to use the Scouring Charm only since it is the only thing we know that can be used to clean out smaller infestations of bundimun. It was these little pests that were making the bathroom smell so awful.

We found the little ugly pests hiding in the corners of the bathroom stalls. These pests are a magical creature found all over the globe. It is greenish in color, has many little yellow eyes, they fed on dirt, and could destroy a whole house thanks to their secretions. You could know that they are around by the foul stench of decay that they leave hanging around in the air. With a large enough of an infestation, the building they are held up in could collapse thanks to their SHIT!

The Scouring Charms could clear out only a small infestation. Thank God that it was only five of these ugly little buggers we found or else we would have had to give up on this place because only the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (Pest Sub-Division) could deal with a large infestation.

We spent a whole month of slow and thoroughly cleaning up the whole place.

Our troubles did not end only with the infestations of bundimun, we found Ectoplasm stuck on to one of the bathroom stall doors.

Ectoplasm is a sticky, viscous green substance left behind by ghosts and other spirits that slowly accumulates over time. In other word is ghost fart. It is really strong, and it could act as a powerful adhesive, but it also harms humans should they come into contact with it, since it is also a poisonous substance.

I had to ask Professor Flitwick for the spell to get rid of the Ectoplasm. It was very difficult work, to get the spell from Professor Flitwick since I had to avoid the question of why I needed the spell. Thanks to being a good student in his class, I was finally able to learn the spell, which is called the Skurge Charm.

This is a really sad spell, I muse we I got it since it only has one use, to clean up ghost fart!

After a month of hard work, we were finally able to clean up the blue stained glass windows, the bathroom stalls, the fountain, and the sinks.

I even put in a lot of hours studying transfiguration since a bathroom is still a bathroom, we need to transform the place into a genuine shop. After long hours in the library, I was ready to get the place set up.

I was able to transfigurate the bathroom stalls into large shelves, were we can place the goods. The sinks were transfigured into cubic display cases, that can hold our latest creation. The remains of the fountain were transfigured into a proper round counter, that can act as cashier station.

"Wow, remember how this place was when we first came here? Now look at it, you won't even recognize that this was the pile of rubbish heap, we started with." George said out loud with a tone of contentment in his voice.

"Yeah, we should have taken a photo from before and then after, people would be amazed at the huge difference," Fred added.

"It is called a before shot and an after shot," I correct Fred.

I look around the place and it is a much better sight than what we came to when we first entered the bathroom, no, I should call it shop.

A dozen candlelight lamps hang all around the place, glowing in a soft golden luminescent light. Seven empty shelves line the left side of our shop, soon they would be filled with merchandises, I envision to myself. The right side of the shop holds nothing except the two large windows, the three of us could not think of anything to place there yet. In the middle of the place is a new stone counter. On the either side of the mysterious doors, line cubic display cases.

c 56

"Hey guys, do you wonder what is behind that door?" Fred asked me and George with an eyebrow half raised.

I place my hand on my temple, "For the hundredth time Fred, no I don't ponder what is behind the door. Also, I do not even really care what is behind the flipping door!"

Fred looks at me and just, so he could annoy me, he says. "You're a buzz killer!"

"No, I am not!" I say crossly, it seems like his tactics are working. "I am the only person here who thinks before he acts. Without me, you guys would be in shambles."

"You're still a buzz kill!" Fred says to me again in that annoying tone of his. All the while he is staring at the door like he couldn't even care less about what I said, and that infuriates to no end.

I waggle my finger at him. "Oh, you are really getting good at this!" I say with a smile on my face, but if you look closer you can see I am shooting daggers at him.

"I see what you are up to there, trying to get me in on board one of your stupid ideas again, huh? Well I am not falling for it, no ser, I am not"

I turn to George and ask him, "George, am I buzz kill?" I put hands up in a sort of gesture emphasizing that I could tolerable anything he says. "Now you can be honest with me, alright?"

George looks back and forth between the two of us. "Why the hell are you two, bringing me into your feud?"

Fred places his hand on to his twin's shoulder. "Come on twin, just be the judge between the two of us. You are the only person who can break this tie."

I too place my hand on George's shoulder and say to him. "Yeah, tell him I am not a buzz kill!"

George shakes his head and says. "There is no way I am getting into this argument."

"Come on, just answer the question," I plead to George.

George nods his head to himself. "You guys won't leave me along until I answer the question, huh?"

"Yes!" I and Fred shout.

George lets out a long sigh, "Fine! I would say Caelum is sort of a buzz kill. Now, are guys happy!"

I nearly jump at him for the answer he dared to give. "What do you mean sort of?" I shout at the top of my lungs, at the corner of my eyes I could see that Fred is making fist pumps.

"What! Didn't you say you could be totally honest with me? Anyways I said sort of, like 40%."

I look at the two of them with my eyes narrowed, all the while shaking my head to myself. "I know that the two of you are working together," I say whilst pointing my fingers at each of them.

"You know what, that is alright," I say waving my hands up. "Let's go see what is behind the door, but if we die or release an unspeakable evil on to the world. I am blaming both of you. Don't look at me like that George, you too are included."

"Who knows maybe we will get to face a Manticore, or a Basilisk. I don't know it could be a dragon or a Werewolf, who even know what the founders hide in these walls." I whisper to myself, but I am more than loud enough for the twins to hear me.

I begin briskly walking to the door, I see that the twins are in step behind, I quickly turn around to face them. "What?" I say to them while spreading my arms wide open. "Are you guys frightened, NOW!" I ask them, with a malicious smile plastered on to my face.

"Well, it is too late now. We are going to do this, like it or not because I am a new sort of Caelum, a cheerful one. So, you might as well get ready to face whatever comes through that door head on."

I continue walking to the towards the mysterious door. I grab the door handle and as I am about to turn it open, I hear a shout from behind me.

I turn back and see that Fred is holding his hand out for me stop. "What is it, Fred?" I ask coolly.

"Ahem, I have put some real thought into it, Caelum and now I have come to see that this is a very stupid idea. You do know how dangerous the school can be, you will never know what might be lurking behind the doorway. So why don't you step away from the door, huh?"

I look at him with my eyebrow raised and then ask, "And?" As I wave my arm around in a sort of circle like fashion, gesturing for him to continue on.

Fred sighs, "I am also very sorry for calling you a buzz kill. That is not true at all, you are the most fun person that I know off."

"That wasn't so hard was it, huh?" I say with a huge grin on my face. I take my hand off from the door handle and the twins let out a long exhale.

"Are you guys done admitting your crimes?" I ask them.

Fred rolls his eyes, "What else do you want me to admit, Caelum?"

"Where the two of you in cahoots?"

"Yes, we were. You are happy now! Well that good, now a deal is a deal so get away from that door."

"Fine, you coward!" I walked away from the door.

"You are such a sore loser," Fred says to me.

"Hah! I won in the end, so it does not matter." I say to Fred and then I turn to face George and ask him. "Anyways, George, you never gave me your apology."

I take a closer look at the guy and see that he is pale, "Hey what wrong dude?"

All he does to answer is point his finger at a direction.

c 57

"By the way George, you never gave me your apology," I said to him. All the while thinking shamefully, now it is your turn buddy to get on your knees and apologize to this young master, hahaha.

Fred shakes his head, "Now, you want to include poor little George?"

I look at him like I would an idiot, "What? Weren't the two of you in cahoots?"

"You made me say that you degenerate!" Fred angrily shouts at me while waving his fist menacingly in front of my face.

"It isn't my fault! You guys started it and I finished it, it is that simple." I said to him as I shrugged my shoulders in an unconcerned fashion. "Anyways you could have won, if only you did not chicken out, near the end of there."

"You are always going on and on, about the dangers that lurk through the school's walls. What was I supposed to do, I heard you whispering that a dragon or a basilisk might be behind the door."

I catch myself as soon as I can, but a sneeze manages to escape. I cover my mouth as best as I can all the while laugh to myself internally, I can't believe you fell for that.

Outwardly I shake my head at him and say sadly. "I tell you all this and you still manage to run headlong into all sorts of dangers," I sigh to myself. "Why do I even try to in rein both of you guys?"

"If it is way too much work for you, then why do you even try, huh?"

I shrug my shoulders and answer him with cryptic future knowledge. "To make sure that neither of you does not lose an ear or your life! Isn't that obvious."

"How the hell, will either I or George lose an ear or their life?"

"Muh, I don't know, you ask yourselves," I said to him nonchalantly.

I pivoted away from all of Fred's incessant questioning and turned to face George. "Hey, George, where is my apology you were supposed to give."

When I don't hear the immediate answer, I was hoping from him. I craned my neck around so that I could face him eye to eye. As I took a closer look at the guy, I was able to see why he was not responding.

The man was as pale as a ghost, I nudged his shoulder with two of my fingers and asked him slowly. "Hey what wrong dude?" I say that I was not getting any answers from him and started to wonder if it was me who caused this.

I quickly decided to relent my case. "You know what forget about that apology. It was both of our faults, muh, how does that sound?"

Still, I was not getting a response, I sighed to myself and said. "Fine! It was my fault, I was a sore loser. Now, why don't you stop faking that shocked expression?" I said to him as I pointed at the look on his face.

"Yeah, you got him, twin, so why don't you stop it already with that freaky expression?"

"Hey!" I say as I snap my fingers in front of his face. Finally, I get an answer from him thanks to my action, but all he does is point his finger in a specific direction.

I look at the direction that he is pointing at, which is the mysterious door. I crane my neck and narrow my eyes as I look at the door that should have been closed is now open by itself.

Beyond the door is a black wiggling throng, and I know for sure that whatever that is, it is alive, I can feel the life coming from it, thanks to all the chittering coming from it.

I clear my throat, "What do you guys say to RUNING away?" I say as I slowly and carefully back away since I do not want to get that 'things' attention.

Fred nods his heads then grabs his brothers arm and starts to drag him away.

All of a sudden a single yelp can from the black swirling mass, and then the black thing pulsed.

"I think we have been found out!" George says.

"You think!" I shouted as I have given up on all stealth and started to run like a mad man. I look back at the person who just spoke up, and it was George. "Oh, I see that you are back in the world of the living."

"Yeah, it is just like as you like to put it. 'My soul has nearly flown out of my body!' Nevertheless, you did not see what I saw, the door opened by itself. By the ways, I think it is a Lethifold."

Fred all the sudden started to laugh. I looked at him and asked in a half worried and half-jokingly matter. "Hey, did you get kicked in the head by a donkey?"

"What? No, I was laughing at George, I am sure as hell he was frightened out of his boots. Did you see his face, it was as white as a sheet."

I opened the door and waved them with my hand to hurry put. "Yeah, I saw it," I answered Fred as I tried to close the door, but quickly gave up on it. Since the black mass started to fly toward us.

As we run away from the old bathroom, Glanmore Peakes who was in his portrait looked at us in confusion and then asked. "Where yo running off to, lads?"

I did not stop at all to answer his question except throw him a single piece of advice. "Runaway to some other portrait, before that thing gets you!" With that, I, Fred, and George were off into the distance.

Glanmore Peakes craned his neck as far as he could in his portrait to see us run off. He rubbed his beard in bewilderment as he sat in his portrait, then he looked at the place we just run away from. His eyes nearly popped out of his eye socket of what he saw then he tailed it.


	3. Chapter 3

When I returned home after a long day at the labs, the first thing I wanted to do was greet my bed. Unfortunately, I was also a responsible adult and thus needed to check my e-mail.

Rule #1 of being an adult: communication make and break lives.

Rule #2 of being an adult: e-mail was your best friend.

I groaned as I chugged my way across the apartment room towards my Core i7-970, 32 GB memory, and GeForce GTX 1080 fit computer.

My pride and joy...

I put her together, piece by piece, hardware by hardware.

And yet my job kept me away from my games.

EVE Online, Stellaris, Europa Universalis 4, Rainbow Siege 6, Team Fortress 2, Overwatch ...

My lovely collection of games...

Sitting in dust.

I booted up the PC.

As for why I didn't answer such e-mails on my phone...

Well, the company I work for, the ******* Chemical Industries, has strict policy regarding smartphones in lab workers.

They don't exist in your possession when you are on your job site.

As such, I just switched over to a flip phone. Made life easier too.

Unfortunately, this has degraded my own social life a bit hard. With no access to a smartphone, my access to social networking sites were limited. If that didn't make my life hard, most of my friends chatted over smartphone exclusive apps.

But hey, at least I make $215,000 a year, so not that much of a biggie for me.

Still, thinking about it, it's been three months since I sat down on my computer, and it was to check for work related communication e-mail. Dearly me, if the past me saw me, then he would declare me heretic on the spot for checking my e-mail outside of my own computer regularly and not taking care of our baby enough.

Username: dsul1995

Password: ******************

And I'm in.

31 New E-mails in Inbox ...

Scam here. Link there. Spam marked.

And hello, someone calling themselves a fan?

[Dear Akallas Von Aerok,

Hey there. I'm a huge fan of your works. But I'm not here to just say that. No, I wanted to ask you to write a Worm CYOA...]

The letter went on and on about why the fan wanted a Worm CYOA.

And then at the last part, he would agree to "donate" through Matreon four thousand dollars if I wrote a fifty-thousand that matched my other works in terms of quality.

What did you think my response was?

"Hell yes."

That's how I found myself sitting in front of my computer with CYOA Version 3, the latest of the "releases" for those wanting to make a Worm CYOA. It was an interestng little read, from top to bottom, because it was a Worm CYOA maker focused on making Worm a cross-over rather than ... well, Worm-only fanfiction. Nonetheless, it made the shindig a bit interesting...

And being the oddball that I was, I just loved the concept of Wildcard. For each point, it granted the main character a random power.

Ha!

Just imagine the power to generate bubblegum ... by chewing. You would never be able to eat anything without tasting bubblegum. Actually, as funny that is, life would be hell. Beef and bubblegum do not go well together.

Nonetheless, it was what I wanted for my main character. Now, how many points did I have? Of course, I chose the god mode for that juicy ten points! But ... I can go a little bit farther. Considering that this character was going to be a big hitter -10 points meant ten powers with varied levels of destruction-, why not add little disadvantages like "Without a Map" for 2 more points (by dropping him off in Ellisberg) and make him be Wanted by a lot of people for 7 more points (ABB, E88, and Merchants want to kill MC at all cost, and the Protectorate/PRT wants the MC in jail for crippling a few heroes)?

It would put the MC with 19 points.

...But to round it off, why not a Geas?

"May not help Taylor Hebert directly."

Yup. Fits in with the story.

20 points.

And let's roll em...

[Cockatrice Physiology – Changer 7]

[Happiness Inducement – Blaster 8]

[Air Manipulation – Shaker 8]

[Multiple bodies – Master 6]

[Disguise Mastery – Stranger 4]

[Internal Energy Combustion – Striker 3]

[Peak Human Flexibility – Brute 3]

[Polearm Construction – Striker 3]

[Skin Removal – Striker 9]

[Feral Mind – Brute 5]

[Sand Manipulation – Shaker 6]

[Prehensile Connective Tissue – Brute 8]

[Wood Manipulation – Master 7]

[Benevorous (feed off goodness of foe) – Shaker 9]

[Water Manipulation – Shaker 7]

[Biological Manipulation – Striker 10]

[Energy Blast – Blaster 5]

[Umbrakinetic Constructs – Shaker 10]

[Blood Manipulation – Shaker 9]

[Power Thief – Trump 7]

And then I whistled at the list I managed to cook up.

Sure, there were useless bits here and there with low numbers (Feral Mind and Peak Human Flexibility), but it had quite a bit of extremely versatile powers (Biological Manipulation and Umbrakinetic Constructs).

I tapped my chin in thought as I went over the list.

On a whim then, I sent the list to the supposed paying fan.

To my surprise, I got a quick reply.

[Enjoy.]

Did he mean he was okay wi-.

-th it?

I blinked and I blinked again.

I was no longer staring at my computer screen. I was no longer staring at my baby, and instead, I was staring at a brick wall with peeling paint. I slowly got up from where I had been sitting (and when did I go from sitting in a chair to sitting on the ground without me noticing it?) and looked around.

The house itself had this musty smell about. It reminded me a bit of the lab. Chairs were strewn about in the dining room. The kitchen was lightless and quiet.

Actually, now that I listed, there was a sound-

Thump.

Dundundundun Slam.

I slowly turned around.

And blinked.

The thing blinked at me too. It looked nothing like a person. It had a fish's head but the body of a molten moss crossed with a horse. Its arms were too long and hairless. Its two stubby legs sat on the ground almost on the same level as its butt.

"INTRUDER!"

And then I knew I was in trouble.

Then it jumped at me.

Without thinking about it, I threw my fist forward.

Hey, I may be a lab rat, but I held black belt in karate, tae kwon do, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu.

Then something amazing happened.

The shadows around me formed a spiked glove around my fist, and that smashed into the fist's face.

Its face caved in and green blood splattered out of everywhere. It shuddered for a second before falling.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on here?" I muttered to myself, staring between my fist and the unconscious fish-horse-moss thing.

The shadow gauntlet surrounding my fist disappeared soon afterwards, leaving me befret of weapons once more, but by then, I had gotten a general idea of what had happened to me.

"Son of a bitch!" I roared. "I got fucking ROBed!"

On one hand, shouting like a madman was not smart. Immediately after I shouted, I heard a stampede outside the house. Wasting no time, I ran to the nearest window and looked out.

I wet my pants right there and then.

I saw a literal horde of varied creatures demolishing everything in their path towards me.

I backed away from the the window and tore into my hair.

"Okay, okay, think! What powers did I get? There was like twenty of them! Think, think, think, thin-!"

...

Cockatrice. The mythological dragon with eyes that induce death.

Multiple bodies. An ability that I can use to make more bodies.

And just like that, I was no longer the prey.

I was the hunter.

PRT officers manning the survelliance station at Ellisburg became curious.

"Hey, Elton, doesn't that look strange?" PRT agent Boyavar, a former Sergent of the USA army, asked his partner.

The two stared at the screen showing the dozens of Nilbog's creation charging towards a single house.

"Probably they found someone who's been hiding," Elton replied idifferently. "Poor chap."

Boyavar scoffed. "You mean they found a 'fresh meat,' and are racing for it?"

"Pretty much. I've seen it happen before."

And then the house exploded.

"What the-?"

Through the screen, they saw nineteen titanic creatures rise up.

"... Are those cockatrice?"

"A what?" Elton turned to Boyavar.

"You know, those things with a rooster's head but a dragon's body! Do you watch any fantasy shows?"

The two stared at the screen and watched as the cockatrices just glared at the monsters approaching them, and all of those monsters dropped dead.

"... Hell, it has eyes that kill with a look. Those are fucking cockatrices, and Nilbog doesn't make mythological creatures," Boyavar hissed as he jumped out of his seat.

"Hey, what's wrong?!" Elton demanded, surprised by his partner's sudden movement.

"Look at them. They're all identical to each other! There's someone else other than Nilbog in there, and it's going to blow up on us!" he shouted as he ran for the nearest long range communications: his phone. He dialed the nearest PRT office.

"PRT East Northeast, how may w-"

"This is PRT Officer Boyavar at Ellisburg Survelliance Station, PRT identification code Charlie-one-seven-one-one-three-Gamma-Charlie-Bravo-Alpha-Bravo. I need immediate connection to Director of your local branch," he said in the calmest tone possible. "Nilbog may have just been engaged by another parahuman."

Director Piggot stiffened in her chair when the PRT agent at Ellisburg explained to her exactly what was going on.

During the time between his call and the transfer to her office, creatures resembling the mythological "cockatrice" clashed in a battle against Nilbog's creatures, all of which were streaming out of every nook and cranny of Ellisburg. It has yet to be concluded, but the images showed a one-sided slaughter.

Cockatrices (cockatri for plural?) just glared at Nilbog's creations for them to die. The smarter ones avoided direct eye contactand fought on, and yet, if they got close enough, the furious swipe of the cockatrice's forearm was enough to knock them aside, if it didn't kill them. The really smart ones banded their fellow abominations together to launch a swarm attack.

Then the cockatrice would open its maw and roar.

And what a roar it was.

The very air seemed to vibrate in a conical path of destruction. Any in front of it would be pulverized to mush. Those caught on the edges would have their limbs torn off by the pressure.

"Thank you for alerting me to the situation, agent." She hung up and called a number on speed dial. There was a moment where the phone rang its obligatory tone before someone picked up. "I need to talk to Chief Director Brown. It concerns a new situation brewing in Ellisburg."

I laughed.

So this was what having limitless power was like?

Why did I ever keep myself confined to a mere two hundred grand a year? There was so much more I could have done with my time! What was two hundred grand in face of this awesome power?!

My first body roared as five of Nilbog's creations (what else could they be?) jumped at me. My [Air Manipulation] worked its magic and turned my roar into a typhoon of hypo-pressure cone of death. The bodies of the "goblins" vibrated before popping like balloon.

I laughed harder.

Here was Ellisburg, the boogieman's throne, and I was absolutely crushing everything.

One by one, my cockatri(?) heads turned towards the center of Ellisburg. Where Nilbog was sure to wait for me. I couldn't help myself. I laughed.

I was going to kill someone.

I -or rather we, despite my being able to sense through all of my "clone" bodies- marched towards the center of Ellisburg. We took a single road and ran.

That's when the true power of the Goblin King struck us.

Elton and Boyavar had popcorn out and they weren't feeling guilty at all.

They were in the front row seat of what was possibly the destruction of a S-class threat to the world. Of course, they were going to watch it with a snack to keep them occupied!

"Holy shit, Nilbog is going all out."

Whereas this new cape fought dozens of Nilbog's abominations in the skirmish in the outskirt of Ellisburg, they were now being engaged by thousands of them.

And the newcomer was winning.

Where Nilbog met the claws and the killing glares of the new cape with his entire supernatural army, the newcomer met that army with the unnerving power of the air.

Elton watched in awe as one of the cockatri tossed a goblin into the air, and then bisect it to pieces with nothing but a hiss. Then it would spin around and whip up a typhoon with its wings, shredding any goblin in front of it.

His favorite, though, was the Roar of Popping.

"Oh, another one got ROP'ed."

Boyavar glared at him. "Really?"

"What? At least I can claim that I made that name up."

"It's stupid as fuck. Roar of Popping. Couldn't you just go with Roar or even Roar of Death?"

"Bah. Too corny."

And again, they watched as the very attack happened again.

This time, it was made by all nineteen cockatri. They stood in a ring with their backs to each other and blasted the goblins.

Everything around them was destroyed. Trees, grass, houses, and the goblins fell away. They either popped or grounded into rubble.

"Oh man, check this out," Elton said after briefly looking up.

"What?" Boyavar looked up too. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Triumverate's in town?"

"A bit too late for the show, though."

"Hmm."

There was nothing around us now. All that stood in our path was slain.

... Damn, if that didn't make me feel good.

We laughed.

Clap clap clap.

We stopped laughing and turned towards the source of the noise.

And to our shock, there stood the Goblin King.

Nilbog.

"I haven't seen this kind of destruction since the last time the PRT sent their heroes and goons after me. And you're certainly no hero; you kill too easily. To whom do I have the pleasure of-?"

We didn't waste time. All nineteen of us blasted him with our Roars.

Nilbog didn't quite pop; all nine of us were using different air pressure. Instead, he caved in and popped at the same time.

Kind of like looking at an implosion within an explosion.

We cocked our head in confusion.

That's it?

The S-class threat that has the PRT shaking in its boots...

That's it?

I was expecting ... something more. Like in those fanfiction where the main character fights Nilbog in a bloody war.

This is it?

The only thought Alexandria had as she and her two friends slowly approached the center of Ellisburg was this: "it's a massacre."

There was at least ten thousand dead bodies and about half as much as that body mass in unidentifiable mess.

She had personally wanted to rid of Nilbog from the map, but had been blocked from doing so by others within Cauldron. Even if she had been given the go, she imagined that her assault on Nilbog wouldn't be this bloody...

Nonetheless, either a new or unknown cape had done this.

This massacre of Nilbog's forces.

It was ... eye-raising and certainly worrying. If this new cape was territorial like so many others, then Nilbog hadn't been defeated; he would have been replaced.

Our noses picked something up in the winds.

We looked up.

Our eyes widened.

Hastily, an image was thrown together.

Eidolon was the first to spot them.

Nineteen creatures all looking towards them.

Just like he had been told in the briefing, he didn't meet their eyes, opting to stare at their feathers and scales.

Dragon, these cockatri may be, but they were nothing like Lung in his most advanced form. They were like the dragons in fairy-tales. Shiny scales covering their bodies. Power unimaginable held within their roars.

He wondered how they would fare against him.

It was to his surprise then that one of the cockatri approached them ... with a rider.

I was nervous as hell, but I also knew better than to show off any weakness like that. This was like and also different from my fights in the rings.

You sized the other party up to determine your action, and you assumed the other party did the same. Thus, you kept your guard up and any weakness hidden. At the same time, my life was on the line. If the Triumverate believed that I was a threat because of my powers, then I would be on the run.

So, I made an image of a warrior. I made another clone. Using [Blood Manipulation], I created spiked yet flowing armor and helmet to cover the clone and my identity in protection. I used my [Polearm Construction] in conjunction with [Blood Manipulation] to create a giant lance made out of crystallized blood. On top of these, I rode one of my cockatri bodies to meet them.

Should the Triumverate burn those two bodies, I had eighteen more bodies to use to escape them. Fast and powerful they may be, but all of my bodies were capable of using all twenty of my powers without restriction. Even killing the two bodies I sent to meet them would be a serious battle that would leave at least a city block inhabitable.

I kept to my "edgy" image, and I hoped to God that this doesn't spiral down.

"So the heroes finally show up to the pest control... I wasn't expecting you at all."

"So the heroes finally show up to the pest control... I wasn't expecting you at all."

Alexandria felt something irk at that. Even so, she kept a tight leash on her emotions. It wouldn't do for her emotions to be the cause of alienation of this cape.

"Do we have name to call you by?"

A name.

Huh. I don't have a cape name.

What name should I go by? Oh boy, this was a new territory.

"Definitely a new cape," Legend muttered to his friends. "Taking too long to say it."

And then I had a name!

I looked up to the Triumverate.

"Call me the Crimson King."

"Is it because of the blood?" Eidolon asked in earnest.

"Hmm, no. Blood control is but one of my weaker powers." The way they stiffened told me exactly what I meant by what I said.

'I'm a grab-bag, and I'm really strong.'

It was a subtle play of intrigue. I knew that Alexandria was sure to get it, if not Eidolon. I hadn't expected Legend to get it; all of my memories of Worm told me that Legend was the less politically involved than Alexandria and thus less experienced in the art of intrigue such as this, minor it may be. Perhaps he wasn't as "naive" as he appeared in the book.

I hope that it wouldn't tickle Eidolon's little problem, though. You know, the one in his head and not in the hands of his powers.

"As you can see, my control over blood means little when my creations like this cockatrice can easily sweep aside pest like Nilbog." As if to assert the point, I had my cockatrice thrill, the very act causing the ground around us to shatter and cave a little. Of course, this was my "cockatrice ride" body just increasing the pressure around us on the ground level incredibly high for just a quick second.

Eidolon seemed impressed, at least.

...Wait, wasn't that a bad thing? He's not going to hold back if we get into a fight.

Alexandria did not let the cockatrice scare her. No, the only thing that scared her about the mythological creatures turned into reality was their ability to kill with a glare.

She was invulnerable to most forms of combat, but the cockatrice glare of death was one she did not want to test, and with more of them ready to back this "Crimson King," any and all battles with this cape might result in her death.

Unless she fought blind, but her other senses would not be able help her in combat as much as sight.

No, what truly worried her was the cape's ability to control blood. He called it one of his weaker power, and he was obviously comparing it to the cockatrices he made, but it was a power that may be more capable of hurting her than any other.

After all, she was a creature of blood and flesh. Stop her blood, just hold it in place, and she would die like any other.

Legend was curious.

Crimson King appeared to them out of nowhere. He didn't remember seeing the rider in the brief skirmish of the video that took place on the outskirt of Ellisburg. It meant that either the rider appeared later, and he remained hidden. And as menacing as he looked, he should have no reason to hide.

That meant that the man appeared later.

But why?

I turned away from the Triumverate, seemingly ignoring them. Of course, my cockatrice ride body kept an eye on them, but my "Crimson Knight" body looked to the centero f Ellisburg.

"The vermin is gone, but this wretched town remains."

On command, the rest of my bodies moved out of the center of the town towards us. Triumverate stiffened. Legend's hands glowed just a little. Eidolon hunched a little. Alexandria tensed, her joints bending just a bit.

Details hard to see -except Legend's glowing hands- but ones I could tell with my new bird sight.

Funny that.

Anyway, they were tense, but I was not.

I mean, why would I be? I dont intend to fight them.

So just 500 meters before the rest of my bodies reached me, they split off, going around in a circle until their backs were turned and the city was in front of them again.

Then they roared.

Hyper pressure airwaves vibrating fast enough to cut through steel -as limited in range as they were- sped out across the field.

Buildings, trees, and corpses of Nilbog's armies disintegrated before the might of my roars. They were louder than jet engines. They were more powerful than hurricanesriances and tornados. Even to my surprised eyes, they appeared as wrathful claws of an unspeakable force reducing everything to dust.

Once they were far enough to not affect our speech and hearing, my Crimson King body turned to the Triumverate.

"One must be thorough in pest control, no? Clean-up is always part of the job."

A/N: Okay, a new story. I am debating on which to continue this: this or my other new story. I always like Worm CYOA SI, and both of these stories are (even though Devourer is kind of less in that regard. That one is just Homunculus Pride(FMA), and Tahm (God of Highschool) put together). For those of you who read both, leave a message on which you would like to see. Of course, I won't be completely swayed by public opinion (I write for fun and myself), but I do get swayed.

Also the e-mail on this chapter is fake.

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Akallas von Aerok

Aug 21, 2017

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Aug 24, 2017

#21

I coughed and frowned.

Wait, why?

Immediately, [Biological Manipulation] activated on its own as if it was triggered.

...

...

...

Okay, five different lethal pathogens would activate it, huh?

And just like that, they were gone.

"Seems like I haven't been informed as I would have liked about Nilbog," I grunted out loud for the sake of the Triumvirate.

They looked confused for a second before Alexandria seemed to get what I was talking about.

"So Nilbog went and made his plagues? His deadman's switch?" Alexandria sneered. The Triumvirate became alarmed, and they flew higher to avoid the plagues, probably airborne, from getting them.

"Ah," I replied postively. "I'll have to fix that too, now won't I?"

My Crimson King body jumped off of the cockatrice ride and walked to a still standing tree on the edge of the town. I touched it, and used my [Biological Manipulation]. My mind had already gathered enough data about the plagues in question.

Now, there was multiple ways I could go about taking care of plagues like the ones Nilbog made. As an avid student of history of war, I know of the ways that armies, guerilla groups, and terrorists dispersed chemical weapons. And what was the difference between chemical weapons and biological pathogen in this case? Only the method of death differed. Both chemical weapons and pathogens were airborne.

And I had the antibodies.

I shaped the tree. I made a new organ within it that made antibodies faster and in larger quantity than any living creature could boast. I had those antibodies match the plagues Nilbog's deadman's switch unleashed.

And then finally, I gave the tree a dispersal system: self-navigating pollen dispersing antibodies as it went.

The hastily assembled plan in my mind was thus: the tree would generate the antibodies and use the pollen to disperse them. While it was not guaranteed that the antibodies will find the plagues wherever they go, they were also designed to spread far and wide. The pollen secondary function was to act as a substitute to the plague when human bodies encountered them. Since my pollens were going to spread faster -I knew this because of the design of the plagues I have seen- than the plagues themselves, they would encounter people first.

The downside to this was that a lot of people were going to hate pollen.

At least, they won't be dead or horribly mutated.

I stepped back at the creation that I made and grinned as the tree began to produce thick miasma of pollens.

My cockatrice ride body came over and stood behind the tree. And it blew, gently.

"I'll have to repeat this a few more times but ... I think it will do, no?" I muttered to myself before heading to another tree. "Ah right, also..."

My other bodies, the cockatri destroying the town, changed the frequency of the airwaves from "concrete-crushing" to "molecular disintegration." The range shortened even further, but hey, at least it'll take out more of the airborne plague.

I turned to the Triumverate and waved. Then using my [Air Manipulation], I talked to them as if I was standing next to them, even though they were about a kilometer off the ground.

"The immediate vicinity around this tree is safe from the plague. You might develop a pollen allergy, though."

Legend shivered as he came to a realization.

Crimson King was not a simple grab-bag. He was a powerful grab-bag whose abilities seemed to be centered around biology. From blood control to cockatri creation and then reshaping an organism like a tree to counter Nilbog's plagues, the man seemed to be capable everything Nilbog may not have been able to do.

Already, his mind was classifying Crimson King and upping the numbers.

'Master 5, Striker/Shaker 10, Tinker 4?' he thought to himself. Master 5 for his control over dangerous creatures, Striker 10 for his biological manipulation and blood control, and Tinker 4 for creating on spot using his biological manipulation to counter a biotinker plague.

Absolutely monstrous.

Just like Legend, Alexandria was thinking the same, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She was thinking about how to defeat a man who might be able to bypass her invulnerability. She too gave him classification and their numbers.

'Shaker 8, Striker 8, Master 4, sub-tinker 4,' she concluded.

Shaker for blood control, Striker for biological control, Master for cockatri control, and sub-tinker 4 for ... whatever he just did with that tree that he claimed would counter plagues made by an S-class threat.

And then I remembered something.

I had [Wood Manipulation]. Sure, it was lower in power classification number than a lot of his more powerful abilities, but it was still something like 5, if he remembered correctly.

I looked at the wood and commanded it to create more of itself by spreading its roots out.

And just like that, it happened.

The ground rumbled as the tree's roots emerged out of the ground like barked whips and sped across the land. At a few junctions and turns, new trees began to emerge from the roots, nearly identical in appearance to the first tree I tinkered with.

It was an ... explosive scene.

The ground shook as more roots appeared from each new tree, and the thundering slithering of the roots was a cacophony.

By the end of the fifth minute since my command, there were forty more trees seemingly attempting to encircle the deserted township of Ellisburg.

I smiled at my work.

And within the minds of the Triumvirate, the numbers and plans were changing again.

It was Eidolon that pointed out the elephant in the room (not that we were in a room).

"Are you with us or against us?"

I looked at them for a second before tilting my head.

"Would you clarify that?"

"Are you a hero or a villain?"

I stared at him for a second before scoffing.

"Neither. I am my own person. A hero sees the world in black and white, and a villain sees the world as their playground. Neither are options I am willing to take."

"...Then what will you do?"

I looked straight in the eye, despite our distance I get the feeling he recognized that I was staring at him, and answered. "Why, recruit, of course!"

"...Excuse me?"

"Rome was not built over the span of a day! A single man cannot do anything on his own. I will need friends to help me with my goal!"

Despite shouting such, I had no goal in mind whatsoever. In fact, my only "goal" was to fade into obscurity and hope that people forgot me. Sure, I had power and whatnot, but ruling or raking in money was not my thing. I was happy with simple things in life. Hell, that's why even with a two hundred grand income, I lived in a dingy apartment; that was the extent of my desires. Getting power was shocking, but it was great. If everything went my way, I would have probably lived on the outskirt of a medium-sized city, allow myself to be hired as parahuman security for the entire town, and live out my days.

Unfortunately, my being dropped into Ellisburg and meeting the Triumvirate was leading me away from that goal because now, they were never going to leave me alone.

"What is your go-?"

Before he could finish speaking, a giant creature drove its way out of the earth. My other bodies squawked in anger and tried to glare it to death, but to no avail.

I stared at the creature.

"Is that a giant worm?"

"I believe so, yes," Legend replied. "I think that may be the true body of Nilbog, or whatever that houses it."

I blinked.

"Well, this is good for me."

"Are you out of your mind?" Alexandria hissed. "How is this in any way good?"

I looked back to her.

"It is good because Nilbog and his power are ready to be reaped."

She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn't let her start.

With but a mental command, the shadows came to life.

From the shadow cast by the giant worm, I create a thousand blades harder than diamond and sharper than the best ceramic blade in the world (I hoped?). And all thousand blades pierced the giant worm like light piercing into the dark from cracks in the sky. There was a gurgle before it just collapsed on top of the blades.

I knew Nilbog was alive; I went for the worm's vitals, not the center of it.

I could feel all of the shadows around me, and Nilbog fell within my range of power.

With a snap of another thought, my shadows around Nilbog wrapped around the man, making a coffin. Then the coffin was pulled out of the dead worm and flown directly to me.

Once the coffin was in front of me, I opened where Nilbog's eyes should be.

And there he was in his clown-like glory.

"You dare attack me and-"

He was going to monologue, wasn't he?

"-will butcher you with a blunt spoon and -!"

Thank god, he's not; he's just ranting.

"Hello, Goblin King," I spoke out loud, using [Air Manipulation] to make my voice louder than it really was. "I am the Crimson King. It is a pleasure to meet you." No, it wasn't.

He stilled for a second.

"...You're here to conquer my lands. You don't carry any of those hero's names!"

"Hmm, at least you're quick on the mark, my lord," I said in my current charade as the Crimson King. "But alas... your land is not what I am here for."

"Then what?!" the righteously(?) enraged king demanded.

I tilted my head down just a bit to shadow my helmeted eyes.

"Your power."

There was a pause.

Nilbog then began to struggle.

"NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo-!"

I jumped down from the cockatrice ride body and walked slowly towards Nilbog.

"You can't! You can't!"

I tilted my head to the side a bit just as I stopped right in front of him.

"Oh, but I can."

I placed my hand on his coffin.

Okay, at this point, I was really just playing up this dramatic scene thing here. While I knew I had [Power Theft], I didn't know how to activate it. I was walking around without much instruction in the first place.

But when I touched the coffin where Nilbog struggled within, I felt it.

A light inside Nilbog.

I smiled.

And hey, why not make this more dramatic?

Using [Blood Manipulation], I gave myself giant bat wings sprouting from the back of my blood armor.

"Bon Appetit."

Then I encircled the entire coffin and myself with my wings.

And pulled at his power.

He screamed.

Ah, it was a slow process. Guess Trump 7 isn't that great in processing power, hmm?

And for some goddamn reason, I couldn't help but let myself grin like a maniac.

Legend watched in horror because that's what this was.

Right in front of him, Nilbog, an S-class threat, was captured and then ...

Eaten.

Nilbog's shrieking scream also didn't assuage any concerns.

Crimson King was eating Nilbog alive for his power.

His stomach churned.

And then he couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop!" he roared as he dove.

He heard Alexandria and Eidolon curse behind him before they dove in after.

Heedless of the pollen and whatever plague Nilbog may have concocted, he landed on the ground below and readied his hands, allowing them to glow brilliantly against this new threat.

But it was too late.

He heard a snap.

Crimson King's wings unfurled, and he saw blood leaking out of the edges of the shadowy coffin.

The cape before him stared back at him.

"I think not."

Legend staggered. He opened his mouth to draw breath and felt no air. Immediately, he changed to his light state, only for him to be encased in darkness.

"I've been waiting for that."

Trapped, Legend knew he was defeated.

Alexandria went into the fight with her fist drawn.

What she did not expect was for Crimson King to have the same eyes as that of the cockatrice.

She froze on the spot that she met his gaze and sped past him due to her momentum and crashed into one of the few buildings left standing in the outskirt of Ellisburg.

Eidolon was not idle while Legend and Alexandria drew Crimson King's attention. But his limit was three powers, and he came equipped with the wrong ones. He kept his levitation and threw the other two power away.

And got weird ones in return.

He threw them away again.

And a-

Why couldn't he breathe?

Why was he falling to the ground?

Why did his body not respond to him...?

Why...?

It was temporary, of course. I didn't actually want to kill any of the Triumvirate (even Eidolon for his inferiority complex that continues to kill millions). However, I knew that I was disadvantaged in a fight against all three of them. Taking them out using their weakness was my only advantage, and thank god everyone needed blood and air to live!

I looked down at Nilbog's dead body.

Again, I was worried about the plague, which was the reason why I used my [Blood Manipulation] and [Biological Manipulation] to kill any and all pathogen he may have created to spite the living. Of course, he didn't quite survive the dual process of having his power drawn and his innards being turned inside out.

I casually dismissed the coffin and dropped his body on the spot and turned to the Triumvirate. I knew that Alexandria was likely to make full recovery; the cockatrice eye that I partially transformed hadn't been complete and thus underpowered. At best, she was paralyzed for a few days instead of being petrified or -worse- dead.

I would have to somehow knock out Legend, but he was in his light state. It was only by quick thinking that I was able to use his very light against him (because shadow moves as fast as light does), but he was contained.

I didn't know my [Umbrakinetic Construct] range, and if it broke, then Legend would be free to chase me down.

No, I could not have that.

Even now, I could feel him trying to break free of the very shadows he was casting. Futile but admirable.

"Now Legend," I spoke up as I approached where he had landed on the ground. "I could just let this slide, you know. You were, after all, the one to threaten me first when I was disposing of a S-class threat."

I felt his attacks subside and knew he heard me.

"I haven't done anything illegal or unethical. To the victors go the spoils, no? It is the way of the powerful."

Legend dropped out of his light form.

"It is also wrong."

"Then you are too naive to lead."

He took that as an insult.

I didn't care. I was the stronger of the two here. "Just look at history. It is the nature of humanity to take when they are powerful and share when they are weak. Look at your own nation's history, Legend."

"And we changed for-"

"Change?" I looked incredulously at him in earnest as I allowed the shadow cage around Legend to drop. "What change? Sure, slavery was outlawed, and your people simply moved on frm extorting the colored to extorting the weak. When that wasn't enough, you extorted smaller nations. Was it not USA who waged proxy wars and send troops to smaller nations for their gains?"

"And we stopped that!"

"Wrong." Okay, at this point, it was obvious Legend was less than all there in the head with his two teammates down and someone who counters him in front of him. He was grasping at straws, perhaps waiting for his teammates to wake up. I'll let him indulge himself. "Your people have simply become too overburdened by reality. You are no longer powerful; you are weak. And what do you do now?" I leaned forward a bit. "Do you not share? Claim to protect the weak now that Endbringers and these S-class threats stand at the top of the world?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him.

"Do your regular citizens not worry about powerful parahumans taking over? Do they not fear? I have seen the laws. Do you dispute me on this?"

He didn't respond.

"Guess you don't," I said. "And now, you fear what I will do. I, who now stand above your S-class threats. Is that not why you jumped down? To stop a possible threat to you? To follow your instinct? The nature of humanity? The nature of the weak?" I drew back and he didn't respond. "You poor naive fool."

...Kind of hypocritical of me, but hey, I now had the power.

And Might always made right.

I turned my back on him and lowered my cockatrice ride body. With a bit of effort and manipulation of my powers, I made two jumps to get back to my original position. My ride body rose again. I looked down on Legend, who was staring at the ground. "Do not worry. Your two friends will make full recovery within the week. I would be very disappointed in you lot if you didn't." Then to add insult to injury, I used [Blood Manipulation] to make a tiny mimicry of fire with crystallized blood. I tossed it down at Legend's feet.

"Keep it as a reminder of your foolishness here today."

Without another word, I had me and my other bodies head east.

To Brockton Bay, the only city I knew what the fuck went on.

Hmm... What is today's date, anyway?

A full week had passed since their encounter with the Crimson King, and they had all fully recovered physically just as the man had said.

Emotionally, they had taken quite a beating.

While the guards at Ellisburg had kept the video of Triumvirate's meeting with the Crimson King tight, outside sources with less than scrupulous reasons had smelled the blood in the air and broke into the Ellisburg database. It was a meager base when it came to electronic security, so it was quite easy for Thinkers and some Tinkers to make it happen.

And boy oh boy did the public blow up when they saw the Triumvirate defeated like children. Oh, the news of Nilbog's death -and what a gruesome death it was to the viewers of the video- made things worse too.

People demanded why the Triumvirate attacked a cape who got rid of a S-class threat in their backyard. They demanded to know.

PRT's official, weak explanation was that the Triumvirate were reminded of Glastig Uaine and were determined to prevent the rise of a "Fairy King."

Speculation ran wild.

The spokesman who mentioned fairy and king together was fired, but it didn't do anything to stem the tide.

By the end of the third day, everyone knew that a Fairy King had replaced the Goblin King.

Unfortunately, he also did claim his bounty on Nilbog at PRT Boston, and the media was there to meet him.

They saw a figure riding on top of a mythical draconic beast. He himself was donned in flowing armor of blood and held a giant spear of crystallized blood as if it was no trouble at all.

But it was what his said in his brief interview there that made people burst into a frenzy.

"Ah, I was just stopping by on my way to Brockton Bay. I heard it's nice over there this time of year."

Sufficed to say, everyone in Brockton Bay hunkered down.

Nilbog's killer and the defeater of Triumvirate was coming to town.

410

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 24, 2017

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Aug 30, 2017

#53

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Topic: Nilbog is Dead!

In: Boards ► S-Class Threats ► North America

Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Posted on March 13, 2011:

Just got the news, folks.

Nilbog, the S-class-threat-who-lived-in-our-backyard is dead. How is he dead? According to the few security footages my friend showed me...

Ummm, how do I put this... mythical creatures did him in. Here's a [LINK] to the video.

But hey, does it matter who killed him? Nilbog is dead! I'm going to go take a shot of whiskey after this.

WingedOne

Posted on March 13, 2011:

Is this real?

G5123fakar13

Posted on March 13, 2011:

What killed him? The video is kind of blurry towards the end after the Triumvirate arrived. They're too far away. A lot of things happen outside of the video too.

JesusIsMySavior99

Posted on March 13, 2011:

The villain got what they deserved. Wiped out a town, killed off our peacekeepers, and kept the entire eastside in fear for years.

Cuddlynnan

Posted on March 13, 2011:

Hold your horses, people. PRT didn't confirm anything, just Bagrat Rumors (even if they usually turn out to be true)

Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Posted on March 13, 2011:

I won't take any offense to that, Cuddlynnan. You wouldn't be the first poster to say that my source of info could be less than trustworthy.

FromFlameSoft (Veteran Member)

Posted on March 13, 2011:

Well, Bagrat is usually right, especially when he mentions inside source. He'll also probably start a PRT internal investigation one of these days.

Weld (Boston Ward)(Verified Cape)

Posted on March 13, 2011:

FromFlameSoft, you've got that right. Our local director is up in arms about it. Not the first time and probably not the last.

Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Posted on March 13, 2011:

Hey Weld. Welcome to the thread. Didn't think any of the PRT/Protectorate/Ward would respond here. They usually don't.

Weld (Boston Ward)(Verified Cape)

Posted on March 13, 2011:

The director wanted a "hands-on" approach. Probably reading this right now. Probably not. I don't know. Somehow I got chosen, so instead of my DJ night, I'm stuck in Boston PRT HQ typing this. Thank you for making my life less fun, Bagrat.

Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Posted on March 13, 2011:

I didn't do that. Your boss did.

AvianKing (Verified Cape)

Posted on March 14, 2011:

I checkedo ut Ellisburg from the air cuz someone paid me to confirm it.

There's nothing there.

Ellisburg is gone. Like the whole fucking town is gone. There's a bunch of trees though.

[Link][Link][Link][Link] to what my camera got before I got chased out by helis.

Nilbog is dead, people!

Showing [1][2][3]...[15]

I had always imagined Brockton Bay to be kind of like old town Boston, if a bit shittier.

I wasn't wrong... but it also had that famous Detroit slums around the edges of the city. You know, the ones that looked like someone made a house out of metal sheets and placed a thousand of those in one compact area.

Right now, I walked the street in my civilian form. Oh, of course, I was using [Diguise Mastery] in case I run into any of the local Thinkers (I'm looking at you, Tattletale), and I had [Multiple Bodies] active and moving about the city just as this body was. This body was around Shantytown... which actually fit the local image.

Everything and everyone here seemed ... gloomy.

And I had this tickle inside me that just begged me to use the "happy beam" on them all.

... Yeah, no. If I did something like that, then the PRT was going to come down on my ass hard. Not worth the momentary satisfaction of seeing someone not me happy. Besides, I kind of wanted to keep that power a secret. You never know when a secret can save your hide.

Ahh... Now, where am I going to stay? I just came to Brockton Bay on a whim because it's technically where all the shit goes down, but I didn't know much about it; I just knew it the best out of all of Earth Bet. Technically speaking, it was quite the place for me to stay; it was one of the places where capes congregated because the weather agreed with a lot of their costumes. For me, the weather was no issue. I could go live in Alaska if I wanted to! Just vibrate the air a bit with my [Air Manipulation] and voila! I had a personal tropical paradise above the Arctic Circle.

But no, I came here knowing the shit and trouble I'm going to get into.

Why?

All of my bodies shivered at once.

Well, I am a bit of a thrill seeker... It was the reason why I didn't leave Ellisburg immediately and went straight towards Nilbog. Hell, I didn't even think about stealing his power when I started. I just wanted to compare myself to one of the S-class threats of this world!

And I found him wanting.

Hell, his power wasn't even that great. It was just a Master/Striker version of pure biokinesis.

Of course, this sent my gamer/otaku mind into a frenzy.

On the road, I fantasized for hours on end about what kind of creatures I might recreate with my power. At the same time, though, I knew of this power's weakness.

Genetic degradation. Whatever creature I would create would live successively shorter and shorter lives as generations go by. At first, I thought, 'hey, that's stupid.' No Zerg for me? Of course, Nilbog didn't have my [Biological Manipulation]. Oh, my mind ran for another few hours on that thought alone. Using Nilbog's power, which I have named [Creature Manipulation], I could create whatever creature I could imagine. Then I can stabilize it with my [Biological Manipulation].

It was ingenious how the two powers synchronized with each other.

It ... was ... perfect.

To carry out my desires, I needed a base of operations.

And technically speaking, Brockton Bay was just filled to the brim with BOO candidates. Why, there was Coil's underground base! It suited my "mysterious" facade just fine and I got rid of a schemer.

Schemers are just like tinkers. You leave them alone, and they come at you later with shiny new toys (or minions).

And then there were the plethora of abandoned warehouses. Those were just up for the taking, legally or squatting. Considering that I was now multi-millionaire, I don't think I need to squat.

Lastly, there was the sea...

Now, I know that Leviathan was going to strike Brockton Bay sooner or later. It's part of the canon plotline. And while I may be an independent factor that influenced the course of history on land, I didn't believe that I was capable of influencing Endbringers.

That responsibility laid solely with daddy Eidolon.

Hmm... technically then, couldn't I affect the Endbringers?

Say, killing Eidolon? Worm canon showed that Eidolon's death resulted in Endbringers behaving differently.

...

Bah, too much thinking of things that I don't even care for.

My priority right now was setting up base in Brockton Bay, and it should be the only thing I need to be concerned with.

I, of course, had requirements for my base. First, it had to be hidden (sort of) until I got big enough to just strut the streets with whatever I wanted (considering I wanted the Zerg Swarm as my pet project, it would be a while until I could do that). Second, it had to be accessible for me but not others. Coil's underground bunker was a very delicious target for the second pre-requisite. And lastly, the base in question must be managable. If I got a warehouse, the "warehouse better not be falling apart" kind of idea. Essentially, the base had to be maintainable within reasonable limits.

Again, Coil's base was looking oddly tempting to take over-

Fuck it, let's take over Coil's base and get me some delicious snake's ass as a sidedish.

With the shadows at my command and in my senses, finding Coil's underground bunkers were easy. Fortunately for me, finding Coil was also easy. However, finding Thomas Calvert's house was not.

The reason for my search for both Coil and his civilian house was to confirm something. My knowledge of Worm was actually less than accurate, as I found out. For example, I was completely ignorant of Nilbog's plagues until I was infected myself. So when it came to Coil, I decided to take a more ... cautious approach.

I would wait until Coil took up his civilian ID so that I can keep track of him and his bases. Then I will do something no one else did.

I will threaten Coil by stating that if he does not leave Brockton Bay and everything of his possession within it, then I will steal his power. Of course, I will also give him a bit of time to "pack up." I'm sure he'll take any of his non-bolted assets and even blow up a few of his bases. Hell, he might blow up every single one of his bases.

... On the other hand, that's not a good thing for me. I wanted Coil out because his power was annoying and I wanted his bases. If his bases went kaboom, then only one of two things would be accomplished.

... All of this thinking was pissing me off a bit. Trying to out think people was not my stuff; I was in a chemistry lab for a reason. I liked solving problems, not people. People are too complicated with no set rules.

Like what I was planning for Coil?

That's unlikely to work with ABB or Empire. Merchants are the scum of the earth, and by the basic law of humanity, scums will always exist. Ergo, my tactic won't work on something that will always be there. I can maybe stomp them out once or twice before I get bored. Maybe the smell will get to me first.

And so...

What should I do?

The answer came to me in a conversation with a random stranger in a cafe.

I explained my situation as an investigator with the backing of some powerful unknown individuals, and spoke about corrupt industrial powermonger who may reside in the city. He also spoke of his fear that the powermonger may be a cape. The stranger, a young woman may be in her mid-twenties, asked if he tried to tell the PRT about it.

I kind of felt stupid.

Later that day, I walked into a public phone booth (which was covered in enough graffiti that I could not see out of it) with a disguise on (thank you, [Disguise Mastery]!), and called the PRT ENE.

It took three ringtones before I was shifted to a cheerful agent on the other side of the line.

And I opened the line with this (using a voice distorted by [Air Manipulation]): "This is the Crimson King. I want to speak to Director Piggot."

I think I scared the poor girl.

It took a while for the fat director to take up the phone, and when she did, she sounded like a drill sergeant who just saw one of her recruit point the barrel at his face during gun maintenance.

"What do you want?" she asked, refusing to use my name.

"My, my. Not happy with me even after I killed Nilbog?"

"The bastard got what he deserved."

"True, true."

"Again, what do you want? I know you didn't call for a friendly chat."

"Aww, you know me so well! ... Are you stalking me?"

"I'm going to hang up if you don't tell me what you want in the next five seconds."

"It involves Coil."

"...Continue."

"I may know his civilian identity..."

"The PRT does not involve itself i-"

"And he may be working as a member of the PRT."

Silence.

Sweet, motherfucking silence. I could see her horrified face... Wait, this is Piggot. It's not a horrified face, it's a bulldog angry face.

"Who?"

"Thomas Calvert, your other friendly survivor of-"

...

She hung up on me!

380

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 30, 2017

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Sep 5, 2017

#76

Well, I called Piggot because I thought she would get Calvert...

Who am I kidding?

A normal can never truly win against an abnormal.

It is the nature of things. It is, after all, how evolution works. It was how we humans came to be. The "normals" could not survive the environment better than the "abnormals," and thus the abnormals became the new normal. Then it would happen again as the environment changes.

Of course, now there are those who transcend their environment. People and animals who overcome their own instincts and the demands of nature to become something ... more.

Calvert was one such being even before he got his power. The level of cunning he can express and act upon is ridiculous. I could never fight him on his

Of course, that's why I also called Piggot. It wasn't because I thought she could actually capture him (though that would be a nice surprise), but because it would leave him ... vulnerable.

My logic had been thus:

If Piggot acts fast, then Calvert would be caught as a civilian in his house or in the PRT. This would, however, cause Calvert to drop the timeline in which he is a civilian, leaving him as a villain. If then I called Piggot after a day or two and I still saw Calvert in his underground office, then I would be free to act.

If Piggot is lucky (not careful), she might capture him after Calvert had already shut down a timeline. Then I would be free to take his bases and his resources (where possible with my current set of powers and skills).

And of course, the unwanted option 3: Cauldron intervention. Coil is released aif nothingng happened and the bastard continues to have his two timelines active in Brockton Bay.

However, there were other variables that might affect the outcomes.

After all, there are phenomenons called "accidents."

Now, I had my own sources of "information." I had a body near PRT headquarter and the Rig, where the Protectorate/Ward used as their publicly visible batcave(?) fortress. They monitored the shadows of everything and everyone, though their focuses were limited to observing one or two things at a time. And like a smart boy that I was, I kept PRT-observing body's focus on Calvert.

...

He walked in. Got foamed. And now they're taking him away.

Hmm...

[Timeline collapsed]

Hmm, Calvert froze for a second there. He was inside his biggest and most secure base, and he was acting twitchy. Did he drop a timeline or something?

With no evidence, I didn't want to move in, but at the same time, the sudden twitchiness that he showed was the only tell that I had for a sudden collapsed timeline.

What should I do, what should I do, oh~ what should I do?

...Hey, Coil likes fucking with people, right?

I'm gonna fuck with him too.

Thomas Calvert was a man of plans and patience. It was how he got here and it was what he was doing. In the lull that had settled on Brockton Bay, he was making plans to expose parahuman leadership of the Empire Eighty-Eight and blame it on the Undersiders. The plan was only at the idea phase, but he was toying around with it. It would cause significant enough trouble for Piggot and the city that he may be able to force other groups under his influence into the city.

Unfortunately, that particular plan was pushed back into the back of his head when his civilian timeline got foamed at the PRT side entrance.

He allowed himself to be taken away and learned that .. he was exposed by the new rogue parahuman who took down Nilbog?

That was cause for concern. He ended the timeline right there.

And now, he was staring at this ... thing that appeared in his office a few minutes after he closed that timeline.

It had the figure of a person but it was coming out of his own shadow.

"Good evening, Mr. Calvert."

It spoke and knew his name.

"...Good evening," he replied as he calmed himself. He couldn't let himself show weakness to others. Capes are animals like that; they exploit weaknesses far more than regular people. It was in their need for conflict that drove them to do that. "Who am I talking to?"

There was a bit of silence.

"I am merely a messenger for someone far greater than I."

"And from whom is this message coming from?"

The shadow-person-thing smiled. "The Crimson King has his sights on you, Mr. Calvert."

Cold sweat broke out in floods. His costume became gammy and sticky as he realized that his time might have run out.

"I am... sure that we will be able to establish an understanding if we were to meet, Mr...?"

"I am merely a messenger."

"I see. Then -"

"The Crimson King has decided to show you mercy, Mr. Calvert. You may pack up everything you own, reorganize your organization however you see fit, and move to another city far away from Brockton Bay. Should you follow these conditions within three days, Crimson King promises that he will not come after you. Of course, this becomes void if you attack anything of his."

Coil stared at the creature before him and fumed silently.

"...Is that all?"

"Yes. Have a good evening, Mr. Calvert, and remember that the king is a merciful man to those who deserve it."

The creature disappeared, and Coil was left with a boiling rage.

He had built an underground fiefdom of his own, managed and operated by him only. And this newblood dared to demand his departure?

But the truth of reality dosed that ego and rage with the intensity of ice cold water. Coil knew that he had no resource capable of fighting Crimson King. He could call a favor from Cauldron, but what would that result for him? Just how deep would he be in their pockets if they succeed? And if they don't, Coil would be on the run with someone who annihilated Nilbog after him. It was obvious that Crimson King also knew where his base was and he operated from; secrecy and subtlety was futile. Hell, he didn't even know what this Crimson King even looked like, never mind his civilian identity!

...

"So that's it then, huh? I just have to bend over," he muttered to himself before walking around his desk and sitting down. "...Fuck."

It was better to start fresh somewhere else than the trigger something worse than Nilbog.

Didn't mean he was happy about it, though. Absolutely not.

I giggled as I watched Coil cave in to my demands. Of course, I intended to back up my threats that I sent through my "messenger," but I don't think Coil was stupid enough to fight. Oh, he might try a lot of things with that power of his -maybe even call on Cauldron-, but it would be for naught.

The only person that I knew of who could be a plausible threat to me was Contessa, but would Contessa remove me in favor of Coil when it was obvious who was stronger of us two?

Maybe the "Path to Victory" might not consider me stronger; Coil's power definitely worked and the man was in their pockets.

Unfortunately for him, I intended to do what he does to others.

And Coil never lets anyone off this easily.

Coil froze.

Or rather, he found that he couldn't move.

It had been a few minutes since he had been met by the "Messenger" who said they spoke for Crimson King. He had already removed a lot of information his office computer had about himself and sent the rest of the data to a safehouse outside of the city.

So why, why, why couldn't he move?

Why did the fucking shadows in the room grow longer and darker?!

He saw the Messenger rise up from the shadow cast by his desk and stare at him with its eyeless eye sockets.

"... I didn't take you for an idiot, Mr. Calvert."

"W-What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

The Messenger "sighed," but no air came out.

"Just a moment ago, Mr. Calvert, your mercenaries attacked Crimson King. You can guess that he is ... less than happy."

Coil paled.

He had been planning to leave Brockton Bay ASAP. He knew his limits. He wasn't about to anger a potential S-class threat. "But fuck that!" the world apparently said, because his dumbass mercenaries did that for him.

"W-Wait, I didn't say anything to them! I barely just got my account moved-!"

"A king cares little for the troubles of each individual in his fiefdom. You broke the contract, Mr. Calvert."

That wasn't the Messenger who spoke.

Coil slowly looked over his shoulder.

A man stood behind him on the other side of the room with knightly armor of constantly flowing blood.

"And a king just hates it when someone decides to stab him in the back."

Coil felt his heart beat in his ears.

The lights dimmed.

"I will put your life and power to good use, Mr. Calvert. For now, though... please suffer." Wings made of crystalized blood and flaps of flowing blood opened up behind the Crimson King. He advanced slowly on Calvert, who stood there, unable to move because of shadows underneath his costume locking him in place like solid constructs.

Coil watched the Crimson King slowly reach for him and open his mouth.

A mouth filled with eyes and more mouths all laughing.

No one heard Calvert scream.

Interlude:

Reactions of the Brocktonite Capes upon Crimson King's Declaration

Starring in Order: Kaiser & Purity, Dauntless & PRT/Protectorate ENE

When: three days before the events above

"Ah, I was just stopping by on my way to Brockton Bay. I heard it's nice over there this time of year."

Kaiser & Purity:

"-just stopping by on my way to Brockton Bay. I heard it's nice over there this time of year."

He threw his remote at the TV with an enraged strength. His trained arm whipped, and sent the plastic remote flailing into the TV screen. The screen shorted out but the audio kept on playing.

"Well, you all heard the Slayer of Nilbog, folks. We, the city of Brockton Bay, will soon be hosting someone who stands on top of the Triumvirate. The question that then comes to us is this: who or what does he fight for? Is he a new villain? Is he a new hero? Or is he a rogue? Brockton Bay already has four factions who have settled snuggly in. Will Crimson King overthrow the status-?"

Click.

There was silence, but in it, Kaiser turned to look at her.

"You were stressing yourself too much over this," Kayden said as she came out of a room, gently closing the door behind her. "And you also ruined my TV." She placed a small remote in her hand on the table she was passing by. She stopped a few feet from Kaiser and placed her hands at her hips.

Kaiser didn't reply for a while before he sighed. "Right, sorry." What else was he going to say here?

Kayden scoffed. "Now, our business's been concluded so please-"

"So you really think you can stay out of the cape business? Where all of your friends and family are?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Friends, maybe, but there's no family in the Empire for me anymore."

Kaiser leveled a glare at her. "You really want Aster to grow up without a father?" he asked. "You know the extent that you went through because of your circumstance. You want Aster to go through that?"

Silence.

Kayden stepped back. "I stand by my decision."

"... I will be back for you two again."

"And like this time, you will leave with empty hands. Now go." She watched Kaiser square his shoulders and leave.

After leaving Kayden, Kaiser was forced to once again revisit the new issue.

Crimson King.

The Goblin Slayer.

The Triumvirate Conqueror.

His threat-level was already on par with Endbringers. Perhaps more so because unlike Simurgh, who was the only Endbringer that planned beyond the immediate fight, Crimson King was a cape. A human who can influence other capes to join him.

Power draws power, just as money makes money.

Kaiser knew the moment he heard the Goblin Slayer's declaration that the Empire Eighty-Eight was going to suffer in the coming weeks.

So what could he do?

He saw three options:

First option was to run away. Take the entire Empire Eighty-Eight operation out of Brockton Bay and move to more fertile grounds. Boston and New York were two such places, even if the E88 would face stiffer competitions than ABB and Merchants.

Second option was to run away by himself. Crimson King was in Brockton Bay sooner or later, and with his abilities, sooner was more likely than not. If Crimson King laid his eyes on Empire Eighty-Eight, then whatever attacks that come will be without warning. The Goblin Slayer did give no warning to Nilbog, after all, so it stood to reason that if E88 ever became his target, then there would be no warning for them either.

And last option was to parley. He could learn about Crimson King's goals and desires and seek to ... give tribute, if that's what was necessary to keep his position and E88 alive.

Each option had their pros and cons, and Kaiser was considering each option very seriously.

Because in a small pond called Brockton Bay where frogs, dragonflies, and minnows fought for dominance, a bloodied pirahna had entered the fray.

Dauntless & PRT ENE

"... And of course, for all of you, avoid contact with Crimson King if possible, and do not under any circumstance give him the idea that either the PRT or the Protectorate is hostile towards him," Director Piggot finished her obligatory warning for all of the capes and the squad leaders present in the large meeting room. Behind her, projector flickered and showed the wasteland that was once Ellisburg. "And as you can see behind me, he turned a town into dust by himself."

Dauntless also saw that several of the Wards were absent.

He sighed internally because he knew the reason for this: Vista and Kid Win's parents pulled their children out of PRT ENE and moved to PRT Boston merely an hour after hearing that a man of dubious goals and power rivalling the existing superpowers of the world was coming to town.

Hell, if his parents weren't adamant about staying in their dying home town, Dauntless would have left too. Oh, he had the potential to match members of Triumvirate, but that was all he had: potential. As he was, he was barely stronger than Armsmaster physically with all of his equipment. He would need a decade more to match Alexandria's strength, never mind the rest of her versatile power set.

"...because of this we have determined that Crimson King may be a cape whose power set may outstrip Eidolon in versatility. While Eidolon has shown that he can use at max three powers at once, the documentation of Crimson King's attack on Ellisburg showed us that he can use at minimum four powers at once."

"Four?" Dauntless questioned.

"In the initial confrontation with the Triumvirate, Crimson King was able to keep control of multiple mythical creatures which each are considered by themselves as A-class threats by our Thinkers. This showed that he was Master and Tinker combo or he is a Master with a bio-tinker under his employ. The cockatrice under Crimson King's control haven't been seen anywhere else in the world, thus a tinker was involved in their creation. Assuming he is only a Master, that's one power. He used blood as armor. That's two. While maintaining his control over both the blood armor and the cockatrice, he showed biokinesis and aerokinesis. All together, that's four powers he displayed at once. In the latter confrontration, he kept his Master power over cockatrice and blood control while choking out Eidolon, paralyzing Alexandria with a glare, and using shadows to trap Legend in his light form. His attack on Eidolon can be attributed to his control over blood."

Dauntless shivered. He saw the video of the "fight."

Eidolon was at least half a mile away from Crimson King, and if the latter lacked Manton Limit to control other people's blood, then the range of his blood control was huge.

"It is also possible, however, that he just switches his powers far faster than Eidolon can, but majority of the Thinkers involved do not believe so. In fact, a significant portion of them suspect that Crimson King can deploy more powers at once, though with less diversity than what Eidolon can achieve."

The screen flicked again, and this time, a chart was brought up.

Armsmaster spoke next. "The Thinkers came up with this chart to show exactly what we may be dealing with."

Dauntless looked up and grimaced at the hope-crippling words written on it.

Trump 12

'Dear God,' he thought to himself as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes and saw the what followed it, it was even more horrifying.

Shaker – Aerokinesis (8), Hemokinesis (8), Umbrakinesis (10)

Master/Tinker(Pos.) – Cockatrice(8)

Striker – Biokinesis (7)

[Redacted] – [Redacted] (10?)

The last set of words in particular did not make him feel good.

"...This is also classified information. If this information gets out to the public, then we will have a mass panic. Do you understand that if I ever find out one of you spread this information, then I will personally see that your life is made into your personal hell?"

The calm and collected threat deepened his anticipation.

Nods greeted Director Piggot's words and the screen flickered again.

Shaker – Aerokinesis (8), Hemokinesis (8), Umbrakinesis (10)

Master/Tinker(Pos.) – Cockatrice(8)

Striker – Biokinesis (7)

Trump – Power Theft (10?)

The silence was damning.

And the following uproar was too much.

Dauntless felt and heard his heart beat the drums of war, and he clutched his head with his hands and tried to calm down as the meeting room descended into frantic denials and prayers for salvation.

He wasn't strong yet. He was supposed to grow.

He wasn't ready to fight a monster like that.

368

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 5, 2017

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Threadmarks 1.5 The Details (Colonization Part 3)

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Sep 14, 2017

#104

I stared at Coil's cooling dead body.

Coil was one of the main antagonists for Skitter and the Undersiders. He was a vile man. He committed a lot of crimes and sins within the timeframe of Worm, but it was also known that he had killed his own superior in his escape from Ellisburg.

But then again, if your superior told you to make a last stand when escape was still possible, I would have done the same in Coil's shoes.

His actions, however, did allow me to assume that there were more things Coil had done between Ellisburg and the timeframe of Worm.

So ... why was I angry over this tiny, wholesomely deserved death when I hadn't been for Nilbog?

... No, it's wrong of me to question why when I already knew.

Coil's power.

It was incomplete, and having devoured such an incomplete power made me angry. The feeling of devouring such an incomplete power, something that could have been more, was absolutely heartbreaking. I had watched my more talented, more handsome, and stronger brother I loved descend into debauchery and hedonism, and the anger I felt then didn't compare to the anger I felt then.

Watching something that could be so much more ... utterly ruined.

And suddenly, the anger boiling within me found an appropreiate target. The ones who were responsible for such atrocities...

Cauldron.

I calmed myself down.

As much as I wanted to go to wherever their base was to devour the rest of Eden, the source of their power and Scion's dead partner, I could not make Cauldron my enemy for two reasons. First, they worked to keep humanity from becoming extinct. Second, they were in possession of Contessa, the possessor of Path to Victory.

If I decide to go against Cauldron, Contessa will see me in her Paths. She will come up with ways to neutralize me.

And as much as I knew I became something worth the attention of the world, there was simply no victory if I decided to go against Contessa.

Instead, I raged and howled inside Coil's base. I created claws, whips, and tentacles made out of shadows and broke everything.

Oh, a mercenary running from me? SKEWER THE MONEY LOVER! A doctor whose name was certainly the one injecting Dinah (who I really didn't care about) with drugs? AMORAL JUST LIKE ME, suffer for my anger!

Walls?! BAM BAM BAM!

It took a while to calm down, but by the time I had, all of Coil's base behind me (which was basically everything except for the main entrance) was in ruins. I ran my blood gloved hand over my helmet, only to realize that my sweaty hair was covered by something, so I couldn't push my hair out of my eyes.

With a huff, I pulled the blood forming the helmet and shoved it into my armor and did the same with my left hand glove. Then I pushed my hair back.

"That felt good~" I cackled quietly. And it did!

And then I noticed something ... off.

Like how did I miss the shadows of five costumed heroes standing on the other side of the circular vault door?!

I groaned. "More fucking trouble for me," I grunted before reforming the helmet and the glove. Then I imagined a giant hand capable of prying this vault door open and with a dramatic snap of my fingers, made it real with the darkness around me.

Miss Militia tensed up as the entire basement (which was really at least two stories tall and several hundred yards in length and a hundred yards in diameter) shook.

She and the other Protectorate members had been sent to this location because of the tremors shaking the entire area. Thanks to Velocity, they were able to find the entrance to ... wherever the tremors were coming from.

And now that she and the others were so close to the vault doors (when had someone installed this in Brockton Bay of all places?), the tremors were more akin to an earthquake. It became worse as seconds clicked by, heading ever so slowly towards them.

Her knife had already changed to a tinkertech shotgun, and she aimed it at the vault door.

Then ...

Silence.

The tremors stopped.

The five of them stared at the vault door.

Armsmaster lowered himself into his most familiar combat stance.

Assault crouched down, ready to jump.

Battery was charging her power.

Velocity pulled out his combat knife (something he rarely did).

They waited.

"...Maybe they're sh-?" Assault began, only for the entire basement to shake with a resounding CRACK.

Then another CRACK.

And this time, they saw what was happening.

The vault door... or rather the walls surrounding the vault door, was being pulled inward. The entire vault door was being pulled inward.

"...Magnetism?" Miss Militia hazarded a guess.

"I'm going to bet on a Brute," Assault replied.

Battery glared at her husband. "Assault, no bets during combat."

CRACK.

The walls gave in.

The vault door then rolled to the side and dropped to the ground with a resounding boom.

In the dust that followed, they couldn't see anything. But they did hear someone walk out in a slow and calm fashion.

"Now, I didn't expect to see you lot so soon."

Armsmaster was the first to reply. "This is the Protectorate ENE. Come out with hands up in the air!"

"Sure."

That ... kind of stopped them short, because it was the first time someone actually agreed to Armsmaster's standard protocol verbally.

"Unfortunately, I have three arms, so please excuse me if one of them hits the ceiling."

'Ceiling?' Miss Militia repeated in her mind.

Then something did hit the ceiling with a resounding boom.

Whatever it was, it was almost as big and heavy as the vault door -and that was at least three meters in diameter and who knows how thick it was!.

The dust began to settle-

-and the Protectorate paled as they saw who emerged from the settling dust.

Red flowing liquid swimming ever so casually in the form of a complete knightly armor, and as the dust settled further, they saw a huge fist made out of darkness behind the figure... who had his hands up in the air, though it was neither straight nor tense.

"It's an honor to meet the guardians of this cesspit! How do you do?" Crimson King asked.

Miss Militia cursed her luck.

Armsmaster replied evenly. "We are investigating the source of the tremors affecting southern Brockton Bay. We came to this place as a result of our findings. Are you the one whose been making those tremors?"

The Crimson King lowered his arms and placed them on his hips. "Hmm, yeah, sure."

"What a nonchalant reply," Assault remarked from the back.

Battery stepped on his left foot with her heel.

"Ah, Assault and Battery, the comedic duo. How are you two?"

"My foot hurts," Assault replied casually, even as he tried to dodge another strike from Battery.

Crimson King laughed. "Ah, young love. These days, the women are so much more violent then back then. Is it a trend?" he asked.

Miss Militia just stared at Crimson King. "What were you here for?" she demanded.

Crimson King straightened his back, looked slightly to his side, and scoffed. "I told your Director that Coil was a part of your PRT organization, but she didn't move on it fast enough for my liking-"

"You told us that just yesterday!" Armsmaster growled.

Crimson King threw his hands up. "Precisely! It should not have been a trouble today!" Crimson King responded as if Armsmaster was agreeing with him.

"I meant that you should have given the PRT and the Protectorate more time to respond."

Crimson King didn't say anything as his hands slowly moved back down.

"And that's why you are inefficient. So useless."

Miss Militia looked at Armsmaster from the corner of her eyes and saw the man bristling.

Crimson King shrugged. "But what can you do? You're too big to move as fast as I wanted you to. That was an error on my part," he said. "So I moved in to deal with it on my own."

"Was the destruction necessary?" Battery asked, gesturing to the broken rubble behind him.

The blood armored cape looked behind him before turning to them. "Yes. You see..."

Everyone tensed at the way he was leaning forward.

"HE MADE ME MAD."

It was a statement that rung throughout their skulls like a shockwave. Their bones rattled at the sheer power that those words carried. The pressure in the room pressed down on her like a hundred pound weight. She staggered, but her legs endured the extra weight and endured.

Then the pressure was gone.

"Gah," Crimson King groaned. "Forget it. I killed Coil today because you weren't fast enough in dealing with him. End of story. Now move out of the way."

Of course, the "not fast" excuse was just that: a lie. I killed Coil because I wanted to kill a fucker who mind fucked other people and steal that juicy power.

So I waited for the five Protectorates in front of me to respond or move away.

... On some level, though, I wanted them to fight me. I wanted to see how exactly powerful I was against the heroes of Worm. It wouldn't wrong to say that I was actually anticipatory rather than frustrated or irritated by their arrival.

"...He was a parahuman, wasn't he?"

I looked at Battery.

I nodded.

She tensed.

"But oh oh oh!" I quickly added. "Don't forget that you just saw an example of my power... and that you should look at your feet."

Miss Militia froze when she looked down just like Crimson King advised them to.

And swimming like fishes were smiling eyes and hungry mouths teetering about in her sha- no, made out of her shadow.

"You are all underground where darkness rules supreme. If you want a fight, then I certainly don't mind playing with the home field advantage."

Even before they could do anything, they were standing there with Damocles over their heads. Hell, she didn't even realize their position, and she was the one who had photographic memory! She didn't even see t-.

"...We'll stand aside," she called before Armsmaster could respond.

Armsmaster looked at her, his faceless mask giving away none, but her experience with the man told her that he was not happy with her for speaking up, effectively undermining his authority (in his opinion).

Crimson King looked at her for a few seconds before nodding. "Then off I go!" he declared cheerfully.

And the bastard skipped away.

It took me a good minute or two get out of the basement and the building, another five to disappear into the city using [Disguise Mastery], and an hour and fifteen minutes to get far enough from the scene of the crime. It was only then that I released by disguise.

And then once I confirmed that there was no one else in the abandoned building I had taken temporary residence in the Docks, I did a little dance of victory.

May 28th, 2011

Life was good at the moment.

As planned, I did take over one of Coil's bunkers and used it as my own base. It was furnished already, which made it better than the abandoned apartment I stayed in. It also smelled nice.

Over the course of few days, I performed some experiments and found out a few things.

First, [Multiple Bodies] had a hard limit of 20 perfect duplicates (not clones) or 200 powerless clones. The simple equation for how much bodies I could have was thus: 200 = c + 10d.

Second, [Power Thief] can work in conjunction with other powers. I tested this using Coil's very own (and as I named it) [Dual Reality Experience], and 20 duplicates stealing powers from everyone. My duplicates/bodies ran around, grabbing villains and heroes alike, and they were all able to use [Power Thief] simultaneously. By the time I ended the experiment by collapsing the timeline, I had gained more than a hundred powers... And I was able to use as much as my attention could use.

[Dual Reality Experience] did not allow me to keep those powers. Eh, not that it was a big loss compared to the freaking Kill Order that I got on my head for that timeline's shitfuckery I threw over the bay.

And all of this led to my third discovery.

The number of clones I made exponentially increased the number of abilities I could use at the same time.

A good example of this were powers that required constant attention to use like [Biological Manipulation], [Creature manipulation](from Nilbog), and [Air Manipulation]. Other powers like [Cockatrice Physiology] only required attention when being activated and deactivated, so it was closer to a passive toggle ability. My mind alone let me use at least one "active" power at once. If I really paid attention then I could use three of them, which made the average number of active powers I could use consciously an astounding two.

I also came to the realization that my ability to use a lot of powers at once when I first met the Triumivrate was because of this: I had a lot of bodies active at the time. 2 to the power of 10 anyone?

The hypothesis for the test -which I performed in another timeline- was simple: each clone or duplicate doubled the number of abilities I could use. It proved to be right.

It was beautiful creating a pillar of sand, air, fire, blood (un-liberally provided by random bystanders), energy blasts, and a lot more powers I stole from people ... on top of the Rig.

Also, I realized why Calvert was such a douche. With a disposable timeline, his -and I suspect my own- view of value of life went down the drain.

I also did test how strong I was... Or rather, I was still testing.

In my main timeline (the one I was not going to close regardless of how many powers I had gained in the other timeline), I spent the last four days performing multiple tests, which included the timeline-power-stealing-test-festing. In my still ongoing other timeline, I had spent the last two days waging a one-man war (repeatedly) against the local capes, and by "local capes," I mean all of them.

Kaiser roared as he threw metal spikes at me. It was his last stand, and we both knew it. By his side, Miss Militia shot lethal armor-piercing rounds at me without mercy. Armsmaster was behind me, his halberd coming up from below with the intent to cut me in twain.

And all of it was useless!

... Because that was only one body.

I allowed their "final" combined attack hit me. Armsmaster cut me up from my left hip to my right shoulder. Kaiser's spikes pierced everywhere on my torso, ripping through the ribcage and out of the back. Miss Militia's aim proved true and blasted my head apart.

And my second body, prepared beforehand, hugged Miss Militia from behind. She froze, which was only right because even though she struggled to whirl around and slam my face in with the stock of her sniper rifle, my shadows held her in place.

Kaiser saw me and raised his arms, a sign which I had come to learn was the cape's rising effort to increase the power of his metal attacks. I sneered at him, and used the shadow underneath his helmet to pierce through the man's brain. He fell to the side and didn't get up.

"Go to sleep Kaiser. I want some alone time with Militia," I cooed as if I hadn't just killed one of the more powerful capes of Brockton Bay.

I giggled. It was so much fun playing in a different timeline. Here, everything was my toy. I didn't need to place nice with them because I was afraid of consequences; there were no consequences to be had if an entire timeline collapsed!

Oh, of course, I knew that this could just be a simulation, but it was good enough of a simulation. I just thought of this entire thing as a computer game.

Armsmaster charged as soon as he saw that I was still alive, only to freeze after seeing Kaiser on the ground and me hugging Miss Militia.

I gently pulled down Miss Militia's scarf and caressed her jawline slowly.

"Careful, Armsmaster..." I said huskily. "You don't know what I might do to the war orphan here if you come too hastily."

Miss Militia's struggles renewed but it was in vain.

I made a karambit with [Umbrakinetic Construct] and gently held it under her jaw.

"I really don't think you want to see her -"

Beep beep

I frowned.

I looked down, where I heard the sound come from.

It was ...

"Is that a bomb?" I asked Miss Militia, who had obviously turned her gun into an already ticking bomb. What kind of bomb was it?

I t-

The timeline closed soon after that. Whatever that bomb was, it was strong enough to go through all of my blood armor, [Biological Manipulation] hardened skin, and layers of [Umbrakinetic Construct] skin armor.

I opened another timeline and did the same thing over again for the sake of "gathering data."

Now, while all of this was going on, my "main" body in this timeline and a part of my attention -currently boosted by 10 clones I had on the base- was experimenting with [Biological Manipulation]. Despite being a Striker power, it was one of my most powerful powers, and not experimenting with it would be stupid.

Fortunately, it was similar to Panacea's own power, which made figuring out the in's and out's of the power easier.

Unfortunately, because of the lack of limits on the power, when I made a mistake, mistakes tended to be big, stabilized, and extremely irritated. Mistakes also tended to bite me.

And when you are attempting to recreate the Zerg Swarm (or at least the Primal Zerg so that I can make the Zerg Swarm later), those bites tend to really hurt.

I shuddered at the thought of the latest mistake (BM Experiment #29). I had wanted to make a larva (that was the 29th attempt), so I got genes from larvas of many different insects, separated the useless from useful, mixed up the good ones, and then...

And then to make the larva a correct size, I "boosted" the genes involved in determining an individual's size.

I boosted too much.

With neither the psionics or other non-material methods of control, 9-foot larva who blood did not register as blood to my power rampaged in the lab that I created it. Apparently, that was [Blood Manipulation]'s weakness: anything that deviated from standard humanoid blood was out of its influence.

Now, I killed it easily enough, but I got bitten at least thrice before that happened, and while [Biological Manipulation] is awesome, when you're panicking with huge ass fangs and teeth gnawing on your forearm, you are not thinking about turning off the pain receptors.

And well, here I was ... BM Experiment #30.

This time, I chose a species of butterfly for their genes rather than a beetle. In hindsight, I realized that my past 29 experiments could have failed simply because of my source material.

Yes, I wanted Zerg.

Yes, I wanted them to be strong and aggressive -and under my control.

No, I didn't realize that while I was capable of understanding how all of the genes are expressed together -which gave me images ad notions about what the product was going to be like to a degree-, I was not God; I can't see everything.

Oh, of course, I knew that [Creature Manipulation] I got from Nilbog was much better and probably much more suited to recreating the Zerg, but no! This was a [Biological Manipulation] test. I wanted to see just how far I could take it!

The experiments were not without precious data feedback, though. From the 29 experiments, I learned more and more about my power, its limits, and its strength. The following facts were some of what I learned:

[Biological Manipulation] had a bit of Tinker sub-category; it drove me to seek new DNA.

Blood was not a good material to create a multicellular organism from

I could alter my own clone or duplicate

ALTER CLONE AFTER TURNING OFF PAIN RECEPTOR

Anything I could do to clone, I could do to a duplicate

I cannot create organic component

As long as I do not touch the brain, the altered clone still acts as one of me

Altering the brain beyond aesthetics will result in a clone being altered to a new individual.

Currently, there are 19 such new "me"s on base. None of them are in possession of any of my powers. They are all under sedation.

My [Multiple Bodies] do not recognize these individuals as a clone or duplicate, and as such, a creation of a new individual opens up its previously used "slot."

Adding additional brain mass to a clone or duplicate does not make them into a new individual, but the altering the added mass will result in a new individual.

[Biological Manipulation] can cause a biological fusion to occur; allowing one creature to absorb another. This applies to everyone. I now have 1 big cockroach instead of 20.

Boosting only certain set of genes without simulating behavior of end product will result in bite marks.

Those weren't all of the lessons and facts I learned about [Biological Manipualtion], but some of the key details. Experiment #30 was now being done to determine how strong I could enhance my own skin.

Now, my selves in alternate timelines had all shown that hardening my own skin can be done, but I wanted to know how strong it was.

And of course, I remember that the particular application withstood Miss Militia's tinkertech weapons point blank but not whatever that bomb was in the latest timeline experiment (simulation).

I stood before a duplicate for observation purpose. The duplicate-me nodded before turning off duplicate-me's pain receptors and hardening the skin. Slowly, the skin shined like bronze before finally stopping at what I would consider a really shiny brass coloration. Since only the skin was affected, all non-skin organs on the surface remained the same. The duplicate-me looked down at duplicate-me's hands and turned them.

What I had done here was to convert some of my skin into extremely flexible chitin, interweave it like fabric through the skin. The process was then repeated until no more "chitin fiber" could be weaved into the skin. Of course, I had altered the chitin itself to be more durable and flexible (because otherwise the chitin fiber thing wouldn't have worked), and the layering of those fibers worked like armor. A bit heavier than kelvar for the same volume (my entire skin), but much stronger. It was actually worse overall compared to the one I made in the other timeline fighting all of Brockton Bay, but that was natural. I may be able to sense between two timelines but powers didn't crossover at all between the timelines. Sucks, right?

I quickly began to make my notes as the duplicate-me visually looked over himself and moved.

Movement was not altered, hindered, or boosted.

Some of my clones came into the room with weapons ranging from a crowbar to a tinkertech laser gun I found in this base.

Crowbar did no damage. It annoyed me, actually.

Pistol did no damage. It felt like someone poked me. It seems that the layers of armor I created in the skin resulted in reduced sensitivity.

AR-15 loaded with 5.56 mm Green Tip Armor Piercing rounds did no damage, but did leave a dent. Dent is not going away.

Desert Tect SRS, one of the more deadly non-tinkertech sniper rifle, managed to pierce the skin but it was shallow. The kinetic impact, however, left the impact area (left hand palm) broken.

The laser rifle did no damage whatsoever. The chitin fiber armored-duplicate-me felt the room get a bit warm but the fiber-like nature of the armor allowed for air to pass through, taking heat with it at an efficiency I was pleasantly surprised with. It wouldn't stand up to a platoon's combined worth of laser attack, but who had a platoon's worth of soldiers equipped with laser rifles?

The test was then concluded.

May 29th, 2011

Life was not good.

Imagine my surprise being rudely awakened by suppressor lights and muzzles poking at your face. My eyes being bleary and all that in the morning, I just used the extra sense that came with [Umbrakinetic Construct] to see the two douches in front of me, and then used their own shadows to slice apart their arms from their torso from their shoulders.

The following screaming did not make my happy.

"Haw da fak did yall even faking get inna my base...?" I snarled, my old hometown accent coming out in full.

And then I realized that I forgot about [Multiple Bodies]'s critical weakness: the number of clones and their uptime directly correlate to mental backlash. Sufficed to say, it knocked me out clean yesterday night after a whole boat load of tests.

And again, why the fuck were people in my base with guns and lights?

I opened my eyes and stared at the two still-screaming idiots in front of me.

Then I frowned.

"Wait a minute..." I grumbled as I looked closer before giving up -not wanting to leave my bed- and used the shadows to feel out the form of their uniform.

...

...

...

"What the fuck is the PRT in my base?" I growled.

Apparently, while I had destroyed Coil's main base I hadn't done much to where he kept all of his information (aka off-site server that Dragon managed to secure the right to peruse their data), and the location of this base was one of them. So when the PRT decided to investigate this illict holding, they ran into chemical lab equipments, several different new specimen that I thought looked cool -but obviously fucking dangerous, which is why I left them inside cages- and a mess in one of the rooms containing a lot of half processed biomass generated by my [Multiple Bodies] -a cheat, if I was to be honest, that let me bypass Nilbog's [Creature Creation] and my [Biological Manipulation]'s inability to create their own biomass for use.

Yes, I killed a lot of clones last night. Somewhere in the upwards of a few hundreds. So yes, I understood the PRT's need to investigate further into the base after seeing that. Hell, I didn't fault them for it. In fact, I went far as to heal the two good men who risked their necks poking at an unknown base filled to the brim with chemicals and blood. I then smacked them hard enough to see stars, called them idiots, and left them with their migraines.

So now, the PRT officers, Protectorates and I were in the main lobby of the base where Armsmaster and I were getting deeper and deeper into our disagreement.

"You can't make this into your base. The PRT has already confiscated the land deeds as part of our investigation on just how large of an operation Coil was managing," he growled. He also had the guts to be verbally aggressive with me when the rest of his teamamtes and PRT agents were all sneaking around us like rats dodging the attention of two cats. But I didn't care about that (I would eventually do but not now).

"And I say no~. I don't care if you own the land deeds. This is my place now. Leave me and my biomass alone," I growled right back.

I didn't have my full blood armor right now, so I knew that I was less impressive. At least my thin body was shining brass. I did make a mask using blood and crystallized it so everyone wouldn't be distracted when talking to me face-to-face. So, as crystallized as it was, it kept my identity from revealed (not that I was likely to be in any of Earth Bet's database).

"You can't just declare this place yours! That's the action of a villain."

Everyone paused.

I stepped back a bit.

"...Are you labeling me?"

Armsmaster didn't take the bait. "I am merely telling you the direct relationship between illegal land claim and parahuman actions. Nothing more."

"Then I claim this place as part of my killing of Coil! I know your parahuman law -is it the Vigilante Act?- says I can take whatever I want -preferably legal- from villains and gangs."

"But you didn't claim it on the spot, which makes your point invalid. Just clear the base already."

"Are you going to make me?"

"I will have to file a complaint against you. It'll affect your standing with the PRT and the government."

"Are you telling me you intend to use the system against me?"

"Stop asking deviating questions and move out, Crimson King. This is not your land."

"Well, I am not moving, and you obviously can't make me."

One of the PRT officers came up to us, but in my frustration with Armsmaster's denial of my right to this base, I didn't hear him until the end. And he was too close. Almost automatically, chains made out of shadows shot out from all over the main lobby of the base and wrapped around the officer. Everyone tensed and raised their weapons.

I looked behind me and glared at the numbnut. "Can you not sneak up behind me when I'm obviously stressed trying to deal with this asshole?" I hissed.

The officer nodded and the chains dissipated. "Ah. It's... It's just that the director would like to talk to you." He held up a smartphone.

I grumbled and swiped the thing out of his hand. He took his hand back fast and backed off quickly. After giving the man a hunched glare, I straightened my back and held the phone to my ear.

"This is Crimson King speaking."

"My officers have reported that you have large quantity of unidentifiable biomass in the base you are squatting."

"I am not squatting. This is mine!"

That's how I got into my second argument of the day.

In the end, I had to give in somewhere to keep the PRT from hounding me from hell and back. So to assauge Director Piggot's fear about Nilbog 2.0 rising up in her Brockton Bay, I agreed to let her scientists full access to several of my labs in exchange for "letting" me keep the base as a legal owner.

Seeing as I was now running 15 duplicates with 50 clones, working as assistant/processor -which meant that there were 15 labs being run in my base-, I saw no reason to deny them. I never did specify how many labs I had nor how many I would allow their scientists to access.

I suspect -based on the director's experience with Nilbog and the PRT's experience with bio-tinkers in general-, they just wanted to keep an eye on me. I also supposed that I was going to get an official PRT Tinker rating depending on what I show their scientists.

April 2nd, 2011

"Not scientists, so why bring them?" I asked the scientists while pointing to the people behind them.

Today was the agreed upon date upon which my agreement with the PRT began. As part of our agreement, they sent three scientists and their interns.

I never agreed upon interns, which was why as soon as the scientists entered the base, I was in the main lobby with a large executioner's axe on my shoulder. It was, of course, made out shadows. The scientists looked miffed but only a little scared. The interns looked like they were going to shit their pants.

"They ... kind of need experience."

I glared, not that they could see. But the tapping of my foot on the floor, echoing like a gun fire in the lobby with a bit of [Air Manipulation], made them nervous. Then after a while, I threw my hands up. "Ah, whatever." Then I moved three of my duplicates. While thye came towards us, I turned to the scientists and interns as a group and spoke. "Well, I suppose I should give you a bit of an introduction." I bowed slightly before rising up. "My name is Crimson King. I decided to make Brockton Bay my home recently. Due to reasons, I am allowing the PRT and the Protectorate to observe several of my labs. Since you have three scientists today, I'll accept that as what the PRT wants as a hard limit to how many labs they want to observe.

"And now rules! Rule #1, you do not explore this base. My agreement with the PRT does not matter to me if their . I will kill you, resurrect you, kill you, resurrect you, and then after breaking all of your bones, I will kick you out of the base. If you come back after that, I'll reduce you to a biomass and toss you into my biomass stockpile for later use." Several of them protested. I ignored them and continued. "Rule #2, ask for permission, whatever it is. That includes touching things. Rule #3, usage of your parahuman powers will result in your immediate reduction of biomass. No buts and ifs about that. Any questions?"

Three interns tried to explore.

Two more tried to steal samples. They lost their hands for their ordeal. I did package their hands up so they can visit Panacea later to get them healed.

Another four tried to do stupid shit without asking questions. Why the fuck would you get close to a giant fucking centipede?! Those things are carnivorous, you fucking idiots! At least I don't have to deal with them.

One of the scientists tried to argue with me about the purpose of Lab #13. I had dedicated that lab to artificial human evolution (for the purpose of gaining psionic genes!), but the scientist saw it as an attempt to create a clone army. I told him that nothing was being "born" in the lab, so keep his mouth shut with the morality of things or get the fuck out of my lab.

Another intern decided to touch things. I knocked him out with a good twist of his neck from behind and tossed him out of the lab. His concerned friend excused himself and took his friend away. Good man.

By the end of the day, all three scientists survived and half of the interns were still in one piece (barring those I put back to kill again). I was impressed.

I got a call late in the night from Piggot about hurting her people. I told her to suck it up if she was going to send fucktards without any survival instincts because I was not going to rescue people who stick their heads into cages with huge monsters and ignoring the rules that the base owner had set them up with.

To my surprise, nothing came out of the dead interns, of which there were four. Something about warnings, laws regarding independent hero bases, and accepting written consents beforehand about being near a bio-tinker.

April 5th, 2011

Another side-effect of [Multiple Bodies] was that while the power had a lot of bodies active, the "strength" of an emotion is reduced per body active. For example, if I am happy with eating a donut, having two bodies would reduce that happiness by half if only one body at it. It was a facet of being a hivemind that I hadn't exactly felt before, probably because most of the things I have done up to this point had little to no deviation from what all of my bodies would do.

Like fucking over a villain. Since I'm a hivemind, every single one of my bodies saw Coil's death happen -without being distracted- and thus all of us felt the same emotions. Thus, the "strength" of the emotion was the same.

Now, however, I had bodies all doing different things with all of their focus not being focused. Oh, I was still a hivemind, but I supposed that each part of me were ... experiencing individuality on microscale with muted emotions. Yes, that was a good conclusion to what was happening to me.

So when PRT scientist, Dr. Modusel, tried to persuade me from trying to recreate a zergling -he called it an abomination-, I felt neither furstration nor anger at his insistence.

It was nice. Now, only if I had learned how to mute my emotion several days ago, it would have been great...

"Again, Dr. Modusel, you are here as an observer, not an advisor," I told the man off as one of my clones brought in a chunk of meat from the biomass stockpile. I/the clone set the meat down on the table and left. "So if you feel threatened by what I'm doing, please go out of the lab and into the observation deck. I'm not asking you to be here in the lab itself."

The dark skinned man threw his hands up and left the lab with two interns, muttering something about how my Lab #11 could not be called a true lab when all I was doing was playing in it.

"Your opinion is unwanted, thank you very much!" I shouted at his back long after they left the lab proper. I turned my attention to slab of meat and got to work.

278

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 14, 2017

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Sep 23, 2017

#117

Piggot

It had been now a month since the Goblin Slayer settled down in the bay. To her surprise, the status quo of Brockton Bay hadn't changed significantly.

Of course, hadn't changed much didn't mean that nothing had changed.

Coil (or Thomas Calvert, her teeth still gnashed thinking about just how deep the bastard had infiltrated the PRT) and his operations (gigantic operation) were wiped out by Crimson King over the course of a day because the former made the latter mad. Coil also had the Enforcers of Lord Street Market on his payroll, who were all arrested for working under a supervillain after evidence of their employment was found.

The gangs, on the other hand, became quieter. Normally, this could have been a prelude to a big conflict breaking out, but Piggot knew they were being quiet to keep themselves from earning the ire of the new cape in town. No doubt the gangs have learned about the demise of their competitor at the hands of the Crimson King.

Piggot frowned as she stared down at Crimson King's profile. It was an inch thick worth of paper and pictures with just the known facts about the man. Three-quarters of it, however, was the recently obtained information from the scientists who observed the labs in Crimson King's base. One of those tidbits of information was that Crimson King was capable of producing powered and unpowered duplicates which all seem to be connected in the mind. If they thought he was dangerous before, he now stood with other high tier S-class threats like the Endbringers and the Sleeper.

But what concerned her more was what the scientists saw in those labs.

Or as Dr. Modusel stated on the first report, "He makes me fear Bonesaw less."

The sheer number of experiments the man went through each day was staggering, and when he bothered to answer exactly what kind of experiments he was performing, the scientists wished they hadn't. She remembered the video of one of those experiments (taken by Dr. Schiwen's tinkertech glass frame). It made her stomach churn as a piece of meat -which used to be one of his fucking clones- morphed under the man's hands. Bony spines and endoskeleton were the first to be recognizable. Then muscles and other organs were made. And then a layer of skin was applied.

The end product was ... unnatural. Brown and red, armored and armed with bones and plates of chitin, and more vicious looking than most capes, it was a terror to simply behold.

... Then it turned on its creator who was overwhelmed and eaten. The monster was simply that fast. In the video, it happened within the span of a single second.

Crimson King's three duplicates ran in and mowed the experiment with what Dragon described as "localized hyper-pressurized air frequency attack." It was a noted feat observed by the Triumvirate during Nilbog's Fall.

The creature didn't get shredded so much as it was vaporized.

When Piggot had asked how the PRT and the Protectorate could protect themselves from that attack, Dragon hesitantly replied that distance was that she would have to build a machine dedicated to countering the said attack by producing the same attack at a frequency which would meet and cancel out the attack, but anything that was between the device and the attack would suffer the same fate as the vaporized experiment.

Piggot asked Armsmaster and Dragon to make one useable in combat anyway. Who knows when Crimson King decides to go crazy.

Knock knock.

Piggot paused in her work. "Come in," she said out loud before resuming her work.

Someone opened the door and came in. There was the sounds of boots clopping on the floor, so she guessed that it was one of her PRT office workers.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Report from Dr. Modusel and his co-workers."

Piggot stopped her work immediately and looked up. A young man stood there with another half inch thick report in a brown envelope. She took the report and gestured for him to leave the office. Once she was alone, she opened the report and began to read.

[Observer(s): Dr. Bonny Modusel, Dr. Sarah Cardigan, Dr. Arnold Swanson

Reported Labs: CK8-L15, CK8-L14, CK8-L11 respectively

CK8-L15

04/10/2011

Continuation of illegal biological tinkering. CK8's "Experiment #76" involved converting an abnormally large cockroach (~45cm) into a "mini-Zergling" (See reference CK8-Zergling). The cockroach in question is reportedly from multiple prior experiments. CK8 declared the experiment to be the first experiment to use Nilbog's power and his biokinesis in conjunction.

Intern Jessica Yumen ran out at this point. Please note that Intern Yumen had a cousin living in Ellisburg prior to Nilbog's reveal.

It took CK8 11 minutes to create a multi-limbed mammalian reptile. Dog/reptile-like head, chitinous armor/wing cover, four hairy limbs for ground mobility, two limbs for downward strike movement. Only its chitin armor showed what it used to be: a big bug. Unlike other creatures made in this lab, the creature of CK8-L15-E76 was docile, a sure symptom of CK8-L15-D15's Nilbog power controlling it.

CK8-D15 declared the experiment to be a failure due to DNA instability, and fixing this will cause the "mini-Zergling" to lose its current form and become asymmetrical.

An hour after Experiment #76 was concluded, he continued with "Experiment #81." He gave no clue as to what it was. CK8-D15 "fixed" the creature using his biokinesis while altering it with Nilbog's power. The entire creature seemed to stretch and bend as the process continued. It took CK8-D15 a minute to complete the procedure. The end product was a creature similar in size and appearance with few key differences. The two extra limbs that served as "scythes" were removed and given to the forelimbs, converting the entire forearms of the creature into scythes. In place of the limbs on top, it gained two pairs of wings and chitinous carapace that seemed to protect the wings, which is a pair more than it had prior to the experiment. The creature was still docile. The creature then showed movement and none of the CK8 clones or duplicates moved to stop it.

Named "Anklebiter" by CK8-D15, the creature was barely 20 cm tall. It was capable of climbing vertical walls, though slow. Its linear speed was measured at around 98 mph, or 158 kmh. This makes the creature one of the fastest creatures in existence, barring Mover capes. The Anklebiter (See Report: Anklebiter) CK8-D15 made was allowed to be remain active, and CK8-D15 suggested that should the need arise, Anklebiters may become part of his "growing family."

After comparing CK8's psychological profile to heroes, independents, and villains, it is likely that CK8 expects large conflict to break out in Brockton Bay in near future. Whether this conflict is one of his engineered situation or that of circumstance remains to be seen.

After Experiment #81 was concluded, no more experiments were done in Lab 15.

-Dr. Bonny Modusel

CK8-L14/CK8-L13

04/10/2011

Continuation of illegal biological tinkering. Experiment must have been concluded before our arrival. There was a giant, 4-chambered, and black heart in the middle of the lab on top of a metal table. According to CK8-L14-D14, the "heart" can pump upwards to 431.1 liters per minute, or 113.8 gallons per minute. Its broad and black appearance was due to the fact that the heart's cells were in possession of hyperproductive "chrolophyll" that ate up large spectrum of the visible and non-visible spectrum.

When asked what the heart/organic pump was for, CK8-D14 stated that he wanted to make a self-sustaining pump that needed no input. His reason behind why such a device would be needed (or made out of organic parts) was left unanswered. The still beating heart was then carried out, presumably to be stored or moved to another lab for further testing.

"Experiment #79" was carried out. CK8-D14 explained to me that Experiment #79's purpose was to successfully create a bioengineered engine with an efficiency over 60%. When asked where that number came from and what the fuel would be, CK8-D14 smiled and told me that the fuel would be food, which is why Experiment #80, which was being performed in Lab 7, was being done to create a digestive system that can break down just about anything.

Experiment #79 went critical thirteen seconds into the experiment and the lab itself was destroyed. My interns and I were saved due to our position being behind the observation deck and protected by whatever the deck uses for its protective glass. Intern Jackson's ArmsmasterMulti-PurposeDevice's Geigar counter detected radiation from destroyed remains of Lab 14.

When I demanded explanation for why there was radiation, CK8-C14A (who was following us around as both guard and guide) explained that another faucet of CK8's power was used: Internal Energy Combustion. CK8 had hoped that a sustained internal combustion could be created within the bioengineered engine, and the engine would keep it going, but there was a spec of thorium (a fissionable material like uranium-235, but much more abundant) that also received the effects of said power. The result was the thorium exploding as it ripped itself apart and unleashed its weight worth of explosive energy. The newly revealed power of CK8 can possibly turn even the useless thorium into powerful material. Whether the power is a Shaker, Striker, or Tinker is undetermined.

Due to Lab 14's destruction, we were given permission to move our observation to Lab 13, where Experiment #66 was taking place. CK8-C13A and CK8-C13B were the only individuals in Lab 13, which was later determined to be an "accelerated evolutionary chamber." This experiment was done with the entire lab being turned into an unsealable terrarium. Estimated size of the terrarium is 13,500 cubic meters ± 500 cubic meters. Observed sizes of the creatures range from small insects to small lizards. As it was explained to us, Experiment #66 relies on CK8's own making: a virus whose purpose is to increase mutability and decrease reproductive cycle of its host creature.

It would explain why three pairs of eyes were on a gecko that had venomous claws instead of stubby digits.

-Dr. Sarah Cardigan

CK8-L11

04/10/2011

Continuation of illegal biological tinkering.

Cannot make heads or tails whatsoever of my own note.

Apparently, all of us at Lab 11 asked for a memory wipe, which CK8 was capable of.

-Dr. Arnold Swanson

Dr. Arnold Swanson is currently being held in Master/Stranger Protocol Tank until the effects of CK8's biokinesis could be determined in full. Highly advised that Panacea be called in to check for irregularities.]

Piggot sighed as she closed the first three pages of report, not bothering to look over the rest. Again, her head was starting to feel the rise of another headache as she prepared to pick up the phone and blast her mouth off at the stubborn mad scientist of a cape.

Illegal biological experiments were something she learned about few days ago. It pissed her off (and scared her a little bit) to have a bio-tinker in her city who regularly unleashed biological horrors by the hour. If that wasn't enough, the bastard experimented carelessly. Reports from several days ago stated an experiment had eaten one of Crimson King's powered duplicates. That said a lot about the threat levels of the produced

And the "anklebiter" was another nightmare for her. They didn't look like awful parodies of life that Nilbog's creations were, but they weren't that much above them either. Splattered unevenly in purple and brown, their unnatural color system was the opposite of Nilbog's former colorful nightmares. Anklebiter was also small, which also meant it was harder for people to spot them. And considering that Brockton Bay had an extensive sewer for tiny critters to roam. If Nilbog scenario ever happened with Crimson King, then -.

She shook her head as she tried to think of ways to defeat a cape whose power enabled him to create an army out of literal shit and piss. Though still vile, she vastly preferred the regular villain capes to Crimson King. Being in the same city, and as the one responsible for containing the capes no less, Crimson King was comparable to a nuke to her and the PRT. He wasn't anything worse than a nuke but also had the capacity to make nukes seem cuddly in comparison.

She looked at her computer for a second before sending an e-mail to Armsmaster. She wanted another meeting about Crimson King and plan against any and all outcomes of his stay in Brockton Bay.

280

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 23, 2017

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Sep 29, 2017

#136

Crimson King

I swept my hair back. Every time I sweat a little, my hair was the first victim, rather not the nooks and crannies like the crouch, armpits, or hands. Of course, I could always alter my own physiology so I wouldn't sweat and cool myself off in better ways. Sweating, however, was the preferred method of cooling for a lot of animals for a reason. I refused to stick my tongue out every time I needed to cool off.

"I need a haircut," I told myself, and I did not have hair cutting skills. Nor did I want to walk around with a bowl cut. "Guess I'll have to finally explore the town, hmm?"

I turned to the rest of the duplicates and clones. Despite the fact that they were all me's, I felt the need to say thus.

"Stay put and lock the door."

And I replied back in those bodies, "Alright, boss."

...God, I really should leave the base. What day was it?

"It's been two months since I took over?" I asked the scientist I met on the way out.

The eyes decorated with dark circles beneath them glared at me.

"That's what you say after forcing me to constantly see you and your duplicates eat your own corpses?" Dr. Mo-something growled. "You've driven almost all of our interns away!" Despite his hostility (which I hadn't earned by any means), he accompanied me through the base as I made my way out. "And what garbage are you wearing?"

I grunted. "Why do you want to know? So you can burn the store I got them at?"

"No, because anything made from mutant carapace does not count as anything worth selling in any store. Even if this is Brockton Bay."

I flipped him the bird.

He flipped it right back.

"What's with the hostility, man?" I groaned.

He stared at me incredulously.

Then he screamed to the heavens. Like legitimately, he was cussing out God.

I stared at him and then slowly edged away.

Abruptly, he lunged at me. Knowing he could do no damage to me, I let him grab me by the collars. It was only then the rant started.

"Y-You are a fucking insensitive son of a bitch, you know that?!" he shouted. "No, you're not insensitive. You're an insane monster! How do you eat your own clones? How do you just ignore everything that you do? The monsters you create and kill on a whim?! Do you know what it's like for me and the others who have to come down here because the PRT is too scared of you? It's hell!

"Just yesterday, an intern quit the job and got herself admitted to a psychiatric institution-"

"You mean a madhouse."

"-because she couldn't take the fucking strain of being near you!"

"Why not just ask for reassignment?"

Dr. Mo-something shook this body of mine in his anger. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! Do you not even remember what happened to the last person who accidentally found your base and wandered in? Do you?"

Admittedly, I didn't.

"You melted him down to use as your biomass, you evil son of a bitch!"

Did I?

"Do you know what the PRT did when we reported that? Do you? We were told to shut up and keep quiet. All of the blasted experiments, the near-deaths we experience, and the complete disregard for life had to be kept low because your mere presence above scares the shit out of everyone. Did you know that? We can't talk about this entire shitfest except with each other, but half of our remaining numbers are going insane from what they have to see every day. The other half is so apathetic to you that when they heard that a living person got biomass'ed, they just shrugged! They just fucking shrugged as if there was nothing wrong with killing someone!"

So are you part of the apathetic or the crazy?

"It's been months since you came, but you utterly scare the entire city! The rich tenth of the city already left the goddamn place. Fuck, do you know what you mere presence did to every single known independent in the city bar the New Wave? They packed their bags and left. The villains? They are scared shitless of you that we've barely seen them."

The man looked pretty crazed right now. The bloodstained lab coat didn't help.

"Wait, isn't that a good thing?" I asked him.

He shook me harder.

"It is not a good thing! It's like a ticking time bomb in the city! Everyone has their finger on the trigger and no one knows when it's going to blow the city up!"

I was getting a bit annoyed at the doctor's shaking, so I gently grabbed his wrists and pried them from my clothes.

"Look, doctor," I sighed. "It's not my problem."

He looked absolutely livid.

"Your interns quitting is not my problem. Your interns going slightly insane is not my fault. Half of your team being apathetic is not my problem. What the people in the city do is not my problem. And certainly, what you think and do is not my problem unless you make it my problem."

The doctor looked at me incredulously before throwing his arms up and walking away from me.

I watched the good doctor leave the base.

And hopefully, he'll resign and not come back. I did more than enough weird experiments to scare him away on purpose, and I didn't want to do more.

Making a genderbent, three-headed, six nippled, tree root sticking out, nine-penis'ed version of my clone was not fun, especially when I could feel all of that.

Wanting to piss out of nine dicks is a weird sensation.

... Right, time to get me a haircut.

To know where I was, one must consider the map of Brockton Bay.

There was the Docks and the Trainyard to the north. To their south was the Captain's Hill and the downtown, the two more affluent areas of the city. To downtown's east was Shantytown, an ambigious sort of place that really didn't stand out much in the overall landscape of the city (it was neither really poor nor rich, drugs weren't rampant but also uncontrolled, and gangs had presence yet didn't care for it).

And my base sat smack in the middle of the area where Downtown, Captain's Hill, and Docks met. So I went to the Docks to get my haircut.

I walked down the street towards Lord Street Market, which had shops nearby that provided other services open air market couldn't provide. Like haircut. I didn't go to Boarddwalk, because -besides being a tourist trap-, it was very packed with people. I didn't want to do anything with people at the moment. Or maybe I should?

Argh.

Anyway, the purpose of me coming out of my base was to get a haircut, so it's a haircut I will get!

And thus began my journey to find a barber, which is also where my troubles began.

In my haste to set up my base and do all of the experiments I wanted to do, I had pulled that all of the duplicates I had serving as my "shadow sensors." I mean, why the fuck would I leave their precious help on the surface when I could use them to perform so much more experiments?!

Unfortunately for me, just because I had been "sensing" the city for a month didn't necessarily mean I had the city map in my head. In fact, because I was so reliant on the shadow senses to keep track of where I am, I became ... utterly lost. Another weakness of my [Umbrakinetic Construct]'s "shadow sense": flat details aren't details to me. Printed words and the like -which is why I can't tell shit on a computer through the shadow sense- feel like a piece of blank paper as far as my power is concerned.

Thus, I stood in the middle of the sidewalk without a map, without a smartphone, and definitely without a barber.

"Argh," I muttered.

And another weakness of myself: Iget lost easily.

Yes, it largely made up my desire to stay indoors for the past months.

So where was I now?

Dinah Alcott

The numbers had changed and so too had her life.

For days and months afterwards, she asked numerous questions as much as her head could take the Thinker migraine. On top of that, she read as much as she could from the PHO, the only noncredible-credible source of national and local cape scenes.

Has the villain trying to kidnap me give up on me?

Is the villain affiliated with E88? 0%.

Is the villain affiliated with ABB? 0%.

Is the villain affiliated with the Merchants? 0%.

Is the villain known? 100%.

Is the villain alive? 0%. No need to ask further about that.

Did someone kill the villain? 100%.

Is that someone affiliated with any of the gangs or groups from Brockton Bay? 0%.

Her heart pounded. She needed to narrow down the questions, and she did on her fifth day.

Is that someone well known? 100%.

Is that someone from Brockton Bay? 0%.

Is that someone strong? 100%

Not from the bay, well known, and strong.

Only one person came to Brockton Bay from the outside recently who was well known and strong.

Her head pounded on the sixth day.

For the first time, she spoke her questions out loud.

"Did Crimson King kill Coil?"

100%.

"Does Crimson King know about me?"

100%.

So it was to her surprise that she met the very man a month later close to Boardwalk.

"Umm... mister?"

The man looked down at her. His sandy blonde hair was long, covering his forehead easily and reaching down to poke the man's eyes. It was unkept, messy, and greasy. It was not the image of a powerful man, but her power told her it was him.

He looked at me and then blinked.

He recognized me.

"C-Can I borrow your ear?"

He tilted his head to the side -just a bit- but leaned in.

She tiptoed up and whispered, "Are you Crimson King?"

He pulled back slowly, though there was no urgency or surprise. Kind of like he was ... expecting me?

"Quite the girl you are, Miss Alcott. Didn't think you'd come find me."

He didn't ask her any question. He definitely knew about her and her powers. He expected her, but was still surprised to see her. Why?

Out of Bounds.

She frowned at her power's answers before sighing. She supposed she asked a question with too much para...para...parameters! Yeah!

"And if I am, Miss Alcott?" he asked.

"Thank you." The phrase came out before she could even think about the question. It was better to say she blurted it out.

He looked at her and shrugged. "Didn't do it for you. No thanks are due."

"Then...?"

"He made me mad."

"Thank you, still."

"Hmm. If you insist, you're welcome."

"Where are you going?"

"...I'm lost."

"Oh."

"Hmm. I was looking to cut my hair, but I got lost."

"I know a salon my mother takes me to."

"Are there a lot of people there?"

"Some. It's not Saturday or Sunday today, so not much, I think."

"Then let's go."

"So... what do you do?" she asked the cape.

The cape hummed but didn't respond.

Now that he got a haircut, he looked more like a man than a bum (at least, that's what Dinah thought). He looked a lot like her dad, but her dad was a brunet. He looked like someone she expected Legend to be outside of his costume. Tall, handsome, athletic, and calm. But there was something off about him that she needed to know.

Like why his eyes were so dim.

Like why he had dark circles underneath his eyes.

Like why he looked so happy yet so tired.

So she started her question with something simple now that they were sitting in a park with a ice cone in their hands.

"I experiment."

"...Like?"

"A lot of things."

"Why are you being so ... so..." She didn't know the word.

"Vague?"

"What's that?"

"When someone or something is or is being unclear."

"Then yeah! Why are you so vague?"

"Because you are too young to know what I do."

"Hey!"

"Other adults run away screaming after they see what I do. I'm not ready to desensitize children to that."

Is he? She asked herself, not really expecting an answer from her power.

77.8% chance that he is ready to desensitize children to his experiments if he deems it necessary.

"Do you make... like monsters?" she asked nervously, not really liking what she just learned.

"Hmm. I suppose they are monsters, but the ones I keep are my children, not things. Next time, I would like you to call them 'kids.'"

How much of a monster are his kids that adults run away?

87% of all creatures created by Crimson King over the past month has been non-humanoid and keeps many features that directly trigger reptilian fear response.

Ah. So there are very scary monsters where Crimson King lives. 'Note to self: avoid wherever the Crimson King lives.'

81.0% chance that I will see where he lives.

...Crap.

"So we're going to nab them?"

"Yeah. I like how that girl looks. I bet she'll be fun to break too."

"What about the guy?"

"Dude, he's probably rich chump. Easy money, eh?"

"I don't know. Those muscles seem to tell me otherwise..."

"We've got guns."

"...Good point."

"So what are you two talking about?"

The two stopped talking and looked around and then at each other. They went back to back. "Who's there?!"

"Someone who didn't like what he heard."

SNAP

Dinah looked down at the downed would-be rapists. Her power told her so.

"Uh so..." she muttered. "What's going to happen?"

Crimson King kicked the knocked out men on the ground once each before sniffing. "Well, I was kind of getting sick of experimenting on myself..." he then grinned. "Hey, do you know the address of this place?"

When John Doe #1 woke up, he was greeted by a stench he was all too familiar with.

Old blood.

It was everywhere, and this place looked like a doctor's nightmare. Blood and body bodies were all over the place. Hoping there was nothing around, he slowly turned his head.

He shrieked when he saw a deformed face to his right and jumped away. He tumbled on the bodies beneath him before landing on the ground ankle deep in blood.

"EEEEKKKK!" he shrieked. His scream bounced around the big room and made it sound bigger than it was. He began to hyperventilate. Blood splashing everywhere as he scrambled backward-

-until he felt something that wasn't a wall.

He slowly looked over his shoulder.

And it was that man. That man with the kid who Jesse wanted to kill.

"Hello, mister," the man grinned, his eyes closed. "Are you enjoying your time?"

John stumbled forward, now trying to get away from the psycho bastard. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he shouted as his hands and knees splashed more blood in his effort to move faster.

The man sighed. "Please don't splash blood so much. It's annoying and makes this seem worse than it really is."

The man, having nowhere to run to, instead turned around and began to threaten. "Y-You're not going to get away with this, you crazy bastard! My friends will come and find me!"

The man merely raised an eyebrow. "Really? The classic 'my friends will come for me' -" he stopped and then sighed. "Never mind. What gang are you with? ABB? Merchants? E88? Wait, you're not asian. So E88 or Merchants?"

John growled. "I'm from Teeth, motherfucker!"

The man blinked.

"Teeth?"

277

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 29, 2017

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Threadmarks 2.2 Hammer to the Teeth

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 7, 2017

#153

Crimson King's Labs: Crimson King

I dropped the dead man after hearing the name of one gang I did not want to bother with.

Whatever I may be, I was no slouch, no dumbass, nor arrogant bastard.

The Teeth weren't like the PRT and the other gangs because all they did was loot, rape, and pillage. They had no base and they didn't care if they died. They were one of the gangs with high turnover rate, if not the gang with the highest turnover rate, of their members, unpowered or cape.

On top of that, if I had my story right, Butcher was leading two different cells of the Teeth (which made Teeth no different from terrorist organizations in that method of organization) into Brockton Bay. They were supposed to come after Leviathan, and I don't fucking remember Leviathan hitting the bay.

And perhaps the biggest reason why I didn't want to fight the Teeth was the Butcher.

How would our powers interact?

Would I come out on top or would the Butcher?

Oh, my powers alone, I was on the top. I could easily crush the current Butcher without an issue... but do I risk it?

In fact, would the Butcher attempt suicide by me in order to get itself transferred to me?

I sneered before turning away from the cooling body and leaving Biomass Room #2. "Dr. Mod!" I shouted as soon as I was in the hallway. I headed towards Lab #15.

Despite his earlier rant about myself, Dr. Modusel had remained at the base in his designated lab continuously keeping an eye on things there. Perhaps he felt that his personal morals and sanity was a good sacrifice if it meant he could keep an eye on me. Who knows, because I don't care at the moment.

"Dr. Mod!"

"It's Modusel!" the man shouted back as he growled and threw the pen he had at me.

I caught the pen without much issue and tossed it right back gently. Right, he also lost some inhibition. He caught the pen and grumbled. "What did you call me for?"

"I need you to call the PRT. They're going to have another enemy inbound."

He stopped for a second to look at me.

"Who?"

"The last pedophile I caught said something about working for the Teeth."

He blanched, quickly pulled out his phone, and called whomever he needed.

I, on the other hand, turned away from Modusel and left the lab. As I did so, I sent commands to each of my duplicates and clones.

Experiments outside of Lab #1, #4, and #7 are to halted. Arm ourselves. We got powers to hunt down.

Yes, as much as I was apprehensive of fighting the Butcher, there were still powers I could harvest. I would be a fool to not go on a hunt.

PRT ENE Headquarter: Piggot

Piggot put the phone down after that particular call and massaged the bridge of her nose. It was another clusterfuck heading her way when she couldn't even properly deal with the first clusterfuck that was under her city.

She shuddered as she considered the reports streaming out from Crimson King's base. Those were the stuff of nightmares.

And just now, she learned that on top of the nightmares beneath her feet, cape bandits were going to go through her town.

"Get me the entirety of the Protectorate," she grunted over the command channel of the PRT. "I need to debrief them all for the upcoming ... problem."

Because what else was the Teeth if not a problem for her and the rest of the city?

Boardwalk: Shadow Stalker

Today being a Saturday, it was the only day of the week that she got a daylight patrol. Due to her branding as an anti-hero, she didn't have to patrol the safer sides of the city for the sake of PR. Unfortunately, she still needed a partner to patrol, and her partners weren't anti-hero. In fact, none of the Wards were anti-hero besides her. So she was relegated to watching over the awed crowds and her partners forced her to go along on a "standard Ward" route.

Aka, PR-fest patrol. All smiles, grins, selfies, and autographs.

It made her sick.

'The city has dealers, racists, and cunts that need to be put down, but what am I doing? Sitting here doing nothing because I need a partner and my partner can't go off the "safe" route,' she grumbled to herself. Sitting on top of a rooftop of a particularly high building in Boardwalk, she was hidden from below and other rooftops by height and her dark costume camouflaging her in the shade provided by an air-conditioning unit. And here, she brooded over the faults of PRT and the Protectorate. 'They're no different from the normal police. I don't see, so they don't act. They're reactionary. They don't take the fucking fight to the enemy. The whole system is made to let the gangs fester!'

She really wanted to just be out there putting down the assholes!

But no~. She had to be caught by the police and the Protectorate.

'Rights? What fucking rights do bastards who fuck others up have? Be worse than them? I'd better be if I want to put the fear of consequence into their skinhead skulls!'

She watched Gallant shake hands with an old lady and then take a selfie with said lady's daughter. She stuck her tongue out in disgust.

The other Wards were so ... so naive.

Maybe not Vista, but there was no way in heaven or hell that she was going to admit that to the midget's face.

She hated Gallant especially. The bastard always tried to be "good" and to "listen."

The fucker didn't know she was the product of her own survival. Did that compnay heir even know what picking through garbage was like? Having to hide yourself because of your skin color?

She took a deep breath in and calmed herself down.

No. There was no need to get angry now. She had plenty of time to do that on the scumbugs who deserved it.

[Shadow Stalker and Gallant, come in.]

Shadow Stalker reached up to her ear piece. "What is it, Kid?" she asked.

[Piggot's calling us in for a meeting. She wants it stat.]

"Argh," she grunted. "Is it about that new guy again?"

Crimson King was a hot topic for everyone. Despite his two month long self-imposed "exile" from the rest of the world, the world hadn't forgotten about him. If anything, his presence in Brockton Bay but the lack of public appearance has led many down the line of speculation. The PRT was no exception because unlike the rest of the world, they got reports of what the Crimson King did in his base.

And it kind of scared her, honestly.

Some of the pictures and videos she saw of Crimson King's underground experiments were ... honestly freaky. Horrifiying. Most of those experiments were nightmare fuels. The dark circles under Vista's eyes after every meeting about Crimson King attests to that. She was easily spooked, and the pictures that came along with the reports were...

Sophia shuddered as she remembered the one the scientist, Dr. Modusel or something, called "biological nightmare."

Seeing that archanid-woman with four tits and tentacles for arms was horrifying enough on its own. That thing ripping apart Crimson King's clones and spearing through steel plates with her spider legs. It made her want to puke after learning that the thing was cannibalized Crimson King clones. Vista did puke. Battery puked too. Surprisingly enough, Triumph puked too.

But that was just visibly horrible. Things like those "Zerglings" that Crimson King succeeded in creating was a nightmare to fight. A creature with leather tougher and durable, armored and armed with spikes and scythes, and faster than most land animals that can evolve from a giant maggot of all things within a minute in pairs?

Shadow Stalker didn't mind the eldritch nightmare; she feared the horde of those Zerglings -unending and unstoppable.

[No. Do you know the Teeth?]

"...Yeah." And now, she had a new bad feeling.

[According to Crimson King, they're in the bay right now.]

Well, fuck.

"Alright. We'll head over there right now. PHQ or the Rig?"

[The PRT HQ.]

"Righ-"

Bang.

It was almost quiet. In the midst of the crowd that was in the Boardwalk, it was barely heard. Unfortunately, the shrieking woman going down with her bloodied shoulder was not. Pandemonium broke out as people put two and two together.

Someone was shooting in Boardwalk.

"Shit, someone just pulled out a gun on Boardwalk. Wounded on scene," Shadow Stalker reported quickly to Kid. She pulled out her crossbow and readied herself to see where the shooter was.

Gallant was quick to pull the wounded woman away from the street, and now, he was looking for the perpetrator too.

"Where is he, Gallant?" she grunted.

"...There's too many."

"What-?"

They came out like a horde. Two dozen men and women jumped out of a grey van wrapped up in ragged and mismatched clothes and gears and equipped with crude and rusty blades and variety of guns.

And at their head was a woman with red blades and a mask covering her face.

They began to shoot. Within seconds, a dozen bystanders were on the ground either wounded or dead.

Gallant fired back with his emotion lasers.

Shadow Stalker fired from above, pinning one of the gunmen on the ground by a bolt through his feet. They saw one of their own go down and saw her, and promptly fired back.

"We got at least twenty perps on Boardwalk! They also got a cape with red knives!"

[That's Hemorrhagia. Brute/Striker combo because of her self-biokinesis and blood control. Dauntless, Triumph, and Velocity are dispatched to your location. ETA 4 minutes.]

Gallant moved side to side. Boardwalk didn't have cars or other convinient covers. He moved to keep the bullets from piercing through his armor, but it was a matter of time before his armor got pierced with so many people shooting at him.

He saw a gunner go for a store with people stuck inside and fired off a [Suicidal Sorrow] beam. He realized his mistake too late.

The beam hit the gunner and he suddenly came to a stop.

A moment later...

He turned his own gun on himself and fired.

His comrades cared not. They kept on firing, not even sparing a glance at the soon to be corpse.

Gallant ducked behind a corner he had been running to. 'Think about it later!' he shrieked inside his mind.

Shadow Stalker didn't think Gallant had it in him to kill someone like that. She approved. She shot off another bolt from her crossbow. It flew-

-and before it pierced a man's shoulder, Hemorrhagia skid between and parried the bolt away.

Shadow Stalker sneered only to find herself ducking as four of the gunners shot at her.

Velocity was the first to arrive. He arrived, however, with someone extra: a combat knife.

He heard from Kid Win and a few short video sent to his helmet about how the two Wards at Boardwalk was pinned down by shooters of all things. Boardwalk was at the center of Downtown along the beaches, where it was supposed to be safe because of its proximity to PRT Headquarter.

'I guess we all thought wrong,' he thought to himself. Before him was Boardwalk with at least two dozen people on the ground, either dead or bleeding. Shooters were indiscriminate in what they shot at.

'And I'm too weak in my Breaker state to do anything useful in evacuation,' he thought with a grunt. 'Taking out the enemy it is.'

He zipped forward, and the shooters saw him.

Or rather, they saw him because he let them. Moving at two hundred times faster than the rest of the world (and inversely incapable of affecting the world), he was upon them. Then as he swung his combat knife in a wide arc, he briefly ended his Breaker state. He strained in the speed exceeding two hundred meters per second that his arm was swinging the combat knife. Almost like hot knife through the butter, the knife sliced through his first target's thigh. Then he was back in his Breaker state, weaving through bullets and bodies.

Out.

Slice.

In.

Dodge.

Out.

Slice.

In.

Dodge.

Out.

Slice.

In.

Dodge.

Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Slice. In. Dodge. Out. Sl-

Ching~!

Velocity saw his combat knife break at the base of its blade, and entered his Breaker state as fast as he could. It saved his life when Hemorrhagia's red blade came down on his shoulder and missed by an thumb's width.

"...That's quite the armor you have," he commented.

Hemorrhagia hummed. "Got the idea from that guy. Crimson King. Didn't think that blood could crystallize like he did with his weapon. Useless as a blade because it has no useful edge," she said and then struck out pre-emptively as Velocity sped up time for himself.

She obviously missed; you can't hit something two hundred times faster than you. Unfortunately, Velocity was equally powerless. But he didn't need to: Dauntless had arrived.

The flying Spartan landed on the ground with a ground shaking crunch and fired off a arc of blue-white electricity at Hemorrhagia. The woman threw one of her blades, sacrificing it to prevent the attack from getting to her. The arc hit the blade, and the superheated blood within the latter exploded into a fine red mist.

They suddenly collasced into a single ... ball of blood. Hemorrhagia stopped and stared at the ball of blood as if she was confused. Velocity and Dauntless readied themselves because for all they know, Hemorrhagia could be waiting for something.

Then the ball vibrated.

"Hello~"

Velocity and Dauntless froze when they heard the voice.

They saw Hemorrhagia pause, though more out of deeper confusion and not the terror that ran through the two Protectorates.

The ball of blood began to spout eyes and lips too many to count. Not actual eyes, just dents that looked like lips and eyes... Still fucking creepy in Velocity's opinion.

"The Crimson King is here~"

It was only then Hemorrhagia realized the shitfest that was about to descend where she was. She turned to flee.

And saw the King of Blood.

Without even thinking, Hemorrhagia reacted instinctively. She formed another blade in her right hand and lashed out.

It bounced off Crimson King's armor. He stood there for a second before sighing and the disappointment within it was clear.

"I heard that the Teeth had someone with abilities similar to mine. I see that it had been greatly exaggerated."

"F-Fucker...!" she hissed back, though her fear was transparent.

"A fucker, am I?" the cape asked.

It was only at this point that Dauntless snapped out of their stupor and attacked with another arc of electricity. Hemorrhagia's blood knives and armor broke ... not because of Dauntless's arc of eletricity but because they came apart into a flowing stream of blood that intercepted Dauntless's attack.

"Now, now, Augment of the Gods," Crimson King said as he looked over Hemorrhagia's paling face at the shocked hero. "I'm here to play. You wouldn't be rude as to ... interfere, hmm?"

[Dauntless, disengage,] Armsmaster's commanding voice grunted through the comms. [Angering Crimson King will not end well for the city right now. Not when he has an entire army of monster he just unleashed.]

Dauntless looked between Velocity and the two capes further ahead. Then he nodded and stepped back. "What's this about an army?" he asked.

[Scientists observing Crimson King's experiments reported that Crimson King left the base approximately five minutes ago with the entirety of his base's living experimental creatures. PRT tried to stop him with words, but Crimson King was adamant about his 'hunt.' Creatures seen leaving are all part of the "Zerg Swarm."]

Dauntless paled underneath his helmet. "He's hunting for more powers," he said, arriving at the conclusion.

No one responded, not that they needed to.

I looked upon the Teeth cape and declared, "I will give you one chance to impress me. If you can do so, then I will let you go to fight another day. If you fail to impress me, then I will cull you like I have culled Nilbog."

I kept my hands on my hip, waiting for Hemorrhagia to strike at me. It wouldn't do anything, but I am hoping that Hemorrhagia would reveal her ace or something like it that's part of her power. Again, my knowledge of Earth Bet and its players were limited, especially when it came to minor players like Hemorrhagia here. My clone read a few things about her on the PHO. I knew that she controlled her own blood to a degree and had been able to harden them to blades. On top of that, she had biokinesis. I suppose those two parts of her power really worked well for her to be active for five years. It was impressive for a Teeth cape especially because turnover rate for Teeth capes were ... exceedingly high. I think only her and Butcher have membership ranging in terms of years. In those five years, Hemmorhagia would have found out all there was about her power, and I wanted to see the extent of it. To see exactly how far she had taken her power, and if it was worth culling.

Oh, letting her go was a lie, but better to motivate them than declare a death sentence and make them despair, hmm? No fun in watching someone wail or fight like an animal!

She lunged at me, shouting at the top of her lungs. Her blade changed... to blade-like claws. I could tell they were far sharper than anything she'd made in front of me.

They struck my armor and did nothing.

'I am severely disappointed.'

"That's it?" I asked as I grabbed her wrist. "Is this truly the strength of Teeth's oldest living member?" She shook and tried to pry her hands away from my grip. I was not a natural Brute, but I had been tinkering on myself for the past weeks. Her strength was lacking in comparison to mine. "Your power seems like a waste to grab." She cried and pounded on my armor. I sighed.

I whistled.

Silence.

A growl.

A hoot.

A screech.

And howls.

More growls joined it and soon, there was a cacophony of animal noises in Boardwalk. Still living bystanders and heroes alike watched, confused, before they recoiled in horror as nightmarish monsters emerged from alleys, rooftops, and lifted manholes, and they filled the streets. They, my children, formed a circle around me, howling, screeching, and growling. Zerglings, Hydralisks, Lurkers, and so much more...

My own Swarm was at my heel, ready to obey.

Hemorrhagia was shaking. Quaking with fear.

"The Teeth have invaded my new home... I didn't strike out at the Empire or the Merchants or the dragon because I wanted some peace of mind and to pursue my own practice. Remember that you brought this upon yourself."

Then I tossed her down to the center of the ring.

A pause.

And my children jumped forward, roaring out their joy at the sight of food.

Hemorrhagia didn't even get to properly scream before a zergling sliced through her neck and made off with her head -to feed no doubt. A hydralisk had already fired off a spine that pierced through her chest and ribs. Other zerglings jumped in and tore the woman apart. By the tenth second, there was only blood and slivers of meat left where Hemorrhagia landed.

And then the my children were gone to wherever they have been before my call. Hiding and waiting for my call.

I turned to Dauntless and Velocity, who now had Gallant standing by their side.

I grinned after taking in the scene around us and their horrified looks.

"Kids are so messy, hmm?" I joked.

285

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 7, 2017

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Threadmarks 2.3 Eye Spy a Mistake

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 11, 2017

#189

"...We're here at the scene of a massacre. To give our viewers a summary, members of a gang by the name of "Teeth" began a shooting spree right here in Boardwalk. Shadow Stalker and Gallant was here to meet them but outnumbered and overpowered by the Teeth, they were reinforced by Dauntless and Velocity. Velocity played a huge role in subduing the shooters and Dauntless arrived shortly after to help Velocity deal with cape of the Teeth, Hemorrhagia. She was a member of the Teeth that operated out of Boston, and her appearance here in Brockton Bay was a surprise to many.

"Hemorrhagia was quickly killed, however, by the infamous Crimson King, who had brought a retinue of monsters with him. He then ordered them to kill and eat the downed members of the Teeth. The members of the Protectorate on site, Velocity, Dauntless, Gallant, and Shadow Stalker were unable to stop him."

Behind the reporter was a street with broken windows, bullet holes, and most prominently, a street painted in blood.

"Many of the residents of the city are now worried about the viability of the PRT after this event."

"Viability of the PRT?" the anchor on the TV asked. "Care to expand that Susan?"

"Of course. In the few interviews that we got prior to making this report, both bystanders and shop owners supported Crimson King's swift execution of the unarmed and subdued members of the Teeth, who had killed eight people and injured thirty-seven other in their shooting spree." The reporter was replaced by a woman talking to the reporter.

"I'm happy that Crimson King acted so fast to take them out. My husband Jerry was stuck in the shop over there with a bullet hole in his stomach. We couldn't leave without getting shot, and he would have died in there if King didn't come and wipe them out."

"What about the killing of the subdued, ma'am?" Susan the reporter asked her.

"Fuck them," the woman snarled. "Why do we have to care about people who tries to kill us? Where was the PRT when the heroes were here? Their headquarter is right there, for God's sake! Heroes got here first, but only because they were here first before the shooting started."

The video of the interview was replaced by the reporter again standing in front of abandoned Boardwalk where only the policemen and PRT agents roamed.

"According to PRT spokesmen, the majority of the PRT agents had been deployed the Docks and Shantytown where two more fights broke out between the local gangs and the Teeth. This may have been why PRT hadn't been able to reroute their forces. When asked why they had so few agents, the spokesmen told the questioner that the PRT ENE had been receiving fewer and fewer funds from the government over the last five years.

"Bill, what can you tell me about this?"

"Well, Susan, I don't know what to say other than the fact that our representatives in Congress are not doing their job. Maybe if we had one or two more squads of PRT agents, fewer people would have died and fewer people would have been injured. That's all I can say about this.

"Can you tell us more about the support of the people for Crimson King?"

"Of course. Like the previous interview showed us, people are appreciative of King's quick action. While the PRT and our judicial system are decrying his actions as extreme and against the spirit of our nation, the people are too tired of the gangs and their parahuman capes. While the support of extreme action has had its support over the years, the level of support for King's swift action is unprecedented. The shooting here may have been the tipping point for the local residents to turn their support to extreme vigilantism. I would not be surprised if several vigilantes rose up, cape or unpowered."

"Thank you, Susan. Even now, the city is being swamped with members of the Teeth shooting and looting. The local gangs have become mired in the affair, and the state has declared a state of emergency over the city with over two dozen villainous capes rampaging in daylight.

"The Shooting of Boardwalk is indeed a tragedy, and while not all of us can leave our jobs and homes to give the new orphans and widows our condolences, we can send them a letter. Send yours to ABC News, and we'll make sure it gets to the right people."

Just as Bill the Anchor said, the streets of Brockton Bay was a mess. Gangs were out and about in large numbers, clashing with their neighbors, the police, the PRT, the Protectorate, and the Teeth, who started all of this with their ruthless pillaging.

Taylor was in the midst of all this. Dressed and armored in her Black Widow spidersilk suit, she was doing her goddamn best -the most effort she put in in her life!- to keeping the violence away from the streets of her home.

Giant swarms of flying bugs swam through the air, hunting down any looters and villains that caught their eyes, while floods of crawlers steamrolled through any offense or defense villains set up to take her down.

Inside her house and the house in the small street she lived were people who had come under her protection in the mess that was becoming Brockton Bay.

At first, they had been apprehensive of her because of her appearance; black didn't quite scream "hero." But when the looters came and burned their homes, she was there to chased them away and help them put the fire out. And just like that, she became the beacon of safety in the city who came to protect almost two hundred people.

By her side was another hero. Dressed like a post-apocalypse chemist was the hero "Chemical Bay." An independent tinker that had managed to stay hidden for a very long time(so he claimed), he had been forced out into the open after the current conflict ended up destroying his workshop. To that end, he's currently extremely pissed with E88 and ABB, who had clashed out in his workshop's neighborhood.

He swung his flamethrower around and sprayed the incoming refugees. At first, they recoiled, thinking they were going to be burned, but instead leaned in when they felt not fire but a spray of soothing green liquid and realized that whatever he was spraying them with was taking the pain and the exhaustion away.

Then he saw one of the refugees pull out a gun and aim at Weaver, who had her back to the refugees.

Chemical Bay, in turn, pulled out a pistol and shot the infiltrator through the head. The gun fell out of the dead man's hands and refugees screamed at the sudden BLAM of a firing gun.

Weaver jumped up into the air and then spun around. She saw the dead man and gave Chemical Bay a slow nod of thanks.

'It's chaos,' Weaver, civilian identity: Taylor Hebert, thought as she pushed at the capes and gangsters trying to break into her 'territory.'

She looked through the eyes of her fly network, buzzing around the entire neighborhood, and saw a group of five gangsters in an SUV speeding towards her location.

"Chem Bay, we got an SUV coming in hot to our south."

The man nodded and turned towards the aforementioned direction. As the SUV came into view, he pulled out a canister and chucked it.

The canister flew towards the SUV and struck its window. It bounced off-

-and blew up into a giant ball of containment foam (ChemBay FoamTM).

The SUV's momentum kept the ball rolling, though.

"Oh shit," both of them muttered before she grabbed Chemical Bay by the scruff of his neck and dragged him away.

The ball slowly rolled downhill towards them.

Chemical Bay got his wits and quickly began to run on his own.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK~!" he shouted as the giant foam ball quickly caught up to us.

Weaver wasted no time tackling him to the side, landing them away from the street and onto a front lawn. The ball rolled away, barely missing them, but as it rolled away, Weaver swore she could hear people vomiting and screaming. Later that day, she realized that SUV had gangsters inside them, and it rolled along with the ball.

The sheer motion sickness they suffered must have been legendary.

"...Anything else?" Chemical Bay asked as he slowly got up. His gas mask was coated in dirt and grass. He shook them away and dusted more dirt off from his costume, a bulky labcoat and vest underneath it and the cargo pants.

"I'm okay. Thanks."

She looked around herself and through the eyes of her swarms.

"...I think we're good for now."

"We are?"

"The gangsters are backing off."

"Huh." He sat down. "Well, fucking finally."

Weaver looked at the man who had come to help her in her time of need. She didn't know who this man was or why he helped her, but she was thankful. This was her first meeting with him, and the constant action didn't quite leave much time for idle conversation. "So..."

He looked at me. "... How young are you, lass?"

Lass?

"Umm 15?"

"Are you part of the Wards ENE?"

"No."

"Then what the fuck are you doing out here?"

"What about you?"

"I'm old. They broke my workshop. What's your excuse, young lady?"

"I have powers, so I want to use them for good!" she declared, even if it made her feel lame for the unoriginal response. "I want to be a hero!"

"...Well, you've got guts, I'll tell you that. Not enough experience, though. Not enough chest either."

"D-Did you just-?"

"I have my likes and dislikes, girlie. You happened to not fit in any of them."

"And you're an old pervert!"

"And proud of it!"

"You're disgusting!"

"And you're too skinny."

That's how the new independent group Avalon began, two capes bickering their day away. At least Taylor got more spunk out of it.

It was a battle of titans.

Kaiser stomped on the ground, and iron spikes erupted out from all sides, spearing anything too slow to dodge. Goons and cars squealed similarly as iron spikes pierced through their feet(tires) and legs(underbelly). His unpowered soldiers and capes spared no time ripping into the opposition with their superior firepower and numbers.

Lung showed no concern for his people, and ramped up as he was, he was all but immune to all of their paltry attempts at harming him. He stepped forward, breaking the iron spikes like they were toothpicks under a heavy boot, and drew in a deep breath. Then with a roar, he unleashed a torrent of fire that surged out. Slow unpowered soldiers of E88 took the brunt of the attack and burned away.

Butcher laughed as she unleashed a hail of arrows that never missed. They found their targets: ABB gangster foreheads. One even hit Lung's forehead but bounced off. Her Teeth threw in molotovs and bullets. The few odd ones went out and got themselves shot. Idiots.

It was ... chaos. Lung and his unstoppable rampage. Butcher and her idiots burning everything on sight. Kaiser and their indiscriminate shootings.

Blood was the drink of the day, and everyone there was drunk on it.

The police and the PRT agents watched from afar, too afraid to get in the crossfire of modern titans (and kaiju). Oh, they caught whoever ran from the fight, but engaging those three factions in an all-out melee without Protectorate backup?

Nope.

Nopenopenopenopenope.

NO.

"Shit, that's not a nice way to go," Manny Jian muttered as she watched a Teeth looter get set on fire .. by his own allies. The thrown molotov broke on his back, shattering and embedding glass, and the fire lit his oil-soaked costume on fire. The looter shrieked and then got gunned down by the ABB.

She was taking cover behind her police car's front wheel and engine, the only place really where the bullets would have a hard time going through. Her partner was by her side, keeping an ear to the radios for the police channels.

"Give me a good news, James," she said as she turned to look at him.

James was her partner of 9 years. A stoic and calm man, he was a survivor of many horrors. In fact, he was one of the few cops who had a cape kill to his name (in self-defense). He was a humble man and a loving father.

But what she saw right there was not her veteran partner of 9 years. She saw a scared man clutching to his radio transmitter.

"James?"

"Massacre at Boardwalk. Crimson King showed up."

She froze.

"Oh shit," she muttered as she paled herself grow cold. "D-Did he turn on us?"

She had been hearing for weeks on end from her friend in the PRT that Crimson King was siding with the Protectorate, that he was being harmless (for the time being).

For him to show up and a massacre play out?

"Teeth showed up at the Boardwalk, killed people. Crimson King showed up and killed them all."

Ah, that's not b-

"My family was there."

Okay, that's bad.

A PRT officer raced over to her.

"Deputy!"

"Yes?"

The man looked shaken. "Armsmaster just called in. He and the others of the Protectorate are heading this way, but-" He paused.

"Well?"

"Crimson King is heading this way also."

She cursed her luck and held up her radio. "I want all members of the force, PRT and police to pull back at least another block. We've got incoming Protectorates and the Crimson King. We don't know what's going to happen, so I want all of you to back off."

Then she heard it.

A rumble that shook the entire world.

It was a savage, primal effect. Her bones rattled and her body quivered lightly. Everyone around her was looking for the source, and they found him.

They were staring at a single red man walking down the street with a huge spear that was as long as the four-lane avenue was wide. With each step he took, the entire spear moved, shaking up and down with the stiffness of a pencil; nothing that long and that thin should be that stiff.

Manny felt shivers run up her spine once. Then twice. Finally, she noticed that she was trembling. She was looking upon the Crimson King.

Suddenly, he paused and turned. He bent down and lifted the spe-

Oh shit.

"He's gonna throw the spear!" she shouted as loud as she could. "TAKE COVER!"

Everyone ducked.

While the rest of the world did not know it, Crimson King had experimented on improving himself. With his control over biology, imagination and time was his only limit. And he had two entire months to improve upon it.

This was the result of Experiment #51-G: Herculean Strength.

He stepped back.

And then ran forward.

Ten steps in, he dug in his heels.

His torso twisted.

And threw.

The sixteen-meter spear flew like a bullet. The spear broke the sound barrier for just a second before rocketing off.

The cops and the agents felt their bodies shake in the aftermath of the throw, nevermind the attack that has yet to land.

The spear flew.

And the target did not see the attack coming.

The giant spear pierced through Lung's scales, through his flesh and bones, and out of the other side. The sheer momentum of the attack lifted up the pseudo-dragon from the ground and sent him flying. The spear dug into the building and dug in deep until Lung's body slammed into the wall and stopped the spear from continuing.

The fighting that had the entire city trembling stopped.

And everyone turned to where the attack had come from.

There.

Far away from them but on a steady approach was someone who they had hoped would not get involved in this conflict.

The King was here.

Holy shit, I fucking nailed Lung!

Didn't know it'd actually work, but shit, it did.

...And now everyone is staring at me. Guess I'll have to act up again, don't I?

From Rune's point of view, the giant red spear that Fenja or Menja might have used appeared from her left with only a glimpse of a sparkle. By the time she turned her head to see what kind of threat it was, it had already pierced Lung through his chest and pinned him to a wall. It was just that fast. She looked at Lung for a second, taking in the giant Changer's moaning form, and then towards where that spear came from.

A single figure stood in the middle of the road on the other side of the police and PRT barricade.

And her stomach dropped.

Adorned in red and making his way slowly to them, Crimson King had just declared his desire to enter the fray. His blood armor shifted and lurched like a hungry beast. The king simply reached for his chest and pulled out a long -

...Did he just make a fucking sword out of blood?

Oh, it just became a crystal.

"Crimson King!" Kaiser roared.

The said cape stopped, having just crossed the police barricade line.

"We have done nothing to you! Why are you attacking us?!"

Crimson King tilted his head a bit to the left before he pulled his head back to release a loud and thundering laughter. It rung so loud that she instinctively covered her ears. It rung for a good minute and slowly died off.

Crimson King just laughed at Kaiser as if he had been told a good joke. He began to walk forward slowly. The way Crimson King walked reminded her of a stalking jaguar in a nature documentary that ran a few weeks ago.

Slow. Watchful. Purposeful.

And deadly.

"Kaiser."

Rune felt the hairs on her neck stiffen as Crimson King's words entered her ears as if he was standing in front of her. She looked around discreetly and saw that it hadn't been just her. Others, those with less tact, were looking around as if something invisible had touched them as if they were in a haunted house.

"Kaiser... Butcher... Lung..." he called out to the leaders of the three gangs. "What makes you think that you have a right to question me? As soon as I made this bay my home, you were all under my rule. I just let you be because I had my own business to conduct. I became your king the moment I declared that Brockton Bay would be my home."

Lung broke the spear holding him and lurched forward. He landed with a tremor and the giant hole in his body healed visibly.

"Ah'll 'ill 'ou!"

Crimson King looked ... bored. His shoulder lifted up a bit and then sagged.

...Did he just sigh?

"Foolish," Crimson King whispered as Lung charged. He jumped a quarter of the way to Crimson King and had run another quarter when Crimson King lifted his left hand and pulled his fingers up, a gesture of telling something to go up?

Out of nowhere, giant black spikes rose up from beneath Lung and pierced through the Brute. Lung roared as his own shadow pierced through his scales and flesh. He flared his fire all around him but it did nothing to the shadows.

Crimson King slowly walked towards Lung.

Rune tried to move and then realized that she couldn't. She tried to move her head around and couldn't. She looked through the corner of her eyes and saw goons and capes alike were trying to move. Victor was red-faced in his attempt to move.

Crimson King continued his slow gait to Lung and then...

And then he stood before snarling Lung.

"'Kill me,' you said." He looked down and kicked a tiny pebble away. He looked back up. "...I have something better for you, Lung." He stepped back and the shadow spikes pulled away, dropping Lung. The dragon-man grunted as he slowly got up. There was obvious confusion as to what and why Crimson King was doing what he was doing. "Kneel to me, your new king, and I'll let you live."

Lung attacked. He lunged forward with an open mouth.

He froze.

Everyone watched with bated breath.

"Fine, then. I will cull you like the mongrel you are," Crimson King replied with a snarl. Then he reached out and tapped Lung on his snout.

Lung's eyes widened and then rolled back.

He dropped to the ground and didn't get up.

"And now your power is mine."

All of the capes witnessing the event felt their stomach drop.

Crimson King just smiled and moved on to the next.

It was a night of silent slaughter.

Or it would have been if fucking Armsmaster didn't stop me.

Apparently, watching Lung die in front of his eyes was "too far" and he walked up to me and held my shoulder.

"...What are you doing?" I growled.

He didn't move. "I can't let you kill them."

"Do you think I give a shit what you can or can't do?"

And then he did something super dumb.

He popped a containment foam canister in my face.

My shadows lashed out and pierced his legs and arms from within, cutting through his armor as if it was a paper construct. His armor locked up, but it couldn't prevent my shadows from puppeting him.

"What is the meaning of this, Armsmaster?" I demanded coolly. I already did more damage to him than to myself, so while it was insulting to have someone like him ambush me like that, I asked second rather than dismembering him.

I've killed interns for less.

"I can't let you kill them," he replied with only a bit more strain to his words than before. Was it from the pain or his attempt to move? I was locking in his armor only, so it couldn't be the latter, and if this was his response after being pierced so many times by my shadow blades, then congrats to him. He had some good pain tolerance.

My shadows formed claws and blades and ripped away the foam in an instant. Now that I was free of that gunk, I got myself out from Armsmaster's grip on my shoulder and looked around.

More of the Protectorates had arrived. Oh, they brought the Wards too!

And most of them were in combat stances and whatever weapons they brought were pointed at me.

I spared them no more glances and looked at Armsmaster. His hand was still outstretched where my shoulder had been.

"Then what will you give me in return?"

Because the thing was, I wanted their power, not their deaths. While I could just correct the man, I felt like playing with him a little for popping that containment foam in my face. I do not appreciate that kind of surprises, so I was going to be a bit ... vindictive about this.

"PRT and the Protectorate doesn't negotiate for li-"

I waved my hand in front of his face. "Hello? You negotiated with me already. That kind of excuse doesn't fly when you have a precedent."

Shadows under my control but under his armor could feel his jaws tighten.

He hissed at me. "I will not ac-"

I cut him off again.

"Again, you can give me all the excuses you want, but you don't got no ground here for refusal. Because if you do," I said as I leaned forward a little. "I'll just cull them, and the people will thank me for it."

Armsmaster didn't reply.

"And remember, Armsy," I drawled quietly. "I also do not like being interrupted."

This time, no one stopped me.

Again, it would have been that way had fucking Oni Lee appeared out of nowhere and dropped off-

FUCKING BOMBS!

That duplicate died.

My "central mind" woke up in one of my spare duplicate body hiding among my Zerg swarm.

Then I facepalmed.

Despite having the processing power of -and the attention splitting capacity of- 50 clones, I did not see Oni Lee disappear like that. How had he done that? I was sure I held him dow-

I didn't cover his eyes, did I?

Last edited: Oct 12, 2017

262

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 11, 2017

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Threadmarks 2.a Avalon and Co.

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Dec 1, 2017

#213

Interlude:

Avalon

June 19th, 2011

Taylor sat in front of her dad and fidgetted. To her right, lounging on the couch and looking out of the window as if this wasn't an issue he raised, was Chemical Bay in his civilian identity.

When Taylor first met Chem Bay, it was during what was coming to be known as "Battle of Tense Bay" -nicknamed as such by the oh-so-wise members of the PHO because of how tense the entire Brockton Bay had been ever since Crimson King moved in- when he and she defended her neighborhood from looters and gangsters. He seemed at the time like a regular man.

That was far from the truth.

He wasn't a man.

He was a fucking grandpa! His entire head was covered in white hair! It looked magnificent, like the well groomed hair, moustache, and beard of a wise king, but he was a grandpa! Grandpa's don't get involved in parahuman fights!

She said as much to his face, and he reminded her that he had already told her about how his workshop was blown to pieces. She was a bit embarrassed about forgetting about that.

As for how she and he were now facing her father, that was Chem Bay's idea.

'If Michael, John, Brian, Kelly, or Samus became a parahuman, then I would like to know, especially because all of them have their own kids. I'd like to be prepared to take my grandchildren in instead of finding out after one of them die, you hear me?'

He said more than that in the usual elderly ranting/droning sort of way, but that was the gist of it. He then explained to her the benefits of letting her father know.

Like not having to hide.

Having his help when it comes to hiding.

Increasing the level of trust in each other.

Not having a shoutfest when he finds out eventually (when, not if).

So on and so on.

She tried to argue, and had some good points like not wanting to endanger her dad, but Chem Bay told her that her mere existence was a danger to him already (unless she decided to live as a hermit in the mountains somewhere). When she became angry about her being a danger to her own dad, Chem Bay used his experience as Brockton Bay's only still living -and hidden!- member from the Dawn of Parahumans to list the number of parahumans from Brockton Bay alone who had similar situation as her and didn't make it out alive.

Taylor was kind of shocked that there were twenty-nine independents who died a violent yet silent death in the bay, never mind the ones who were assassinated like Fleur or left like Lightstar.

His point?

'Talk to your fucking father, Miss Hebert. He'll appreciate it.'

And so they did. Chem Bay even went far as to show up in his civilian identity on the day Taylor told him that she was going to tell her dad.

Then the moment came. He came through and the door closed behind him. He introduced himself as Chemical Bay.

He then looked at her and gave her a raised eyebrow.

He took her choice away, and she wanted to strangle the old fart for it.

"So ... yeah, I'm a cape."

It just came out as a blur after all of them took a seat, her and Chem Bay on the couch and dad on a spare chair from the dining table.

Dad stared at her for a while before sighing. "Is that why you've been leaving the house at night?"

She flinched. "You... knew?"

"Assuming you went out once every two days, I've been there to hear you leave for all of them."

Chem Bay looked at her and frowned. "We need to work on your stealth," he deadpanned.

Taylor dropped her head into her hands, which only made dad laugh nervously.

And finally, Chem Bay introduced himself to her and her dad. He extended his hand to her dad without a smile. "It's a bit late, but I'd like to introduce myself to you. My name is Zacharia Almaria von Hohenzollern."

Taylor frowned.

Where had she heard that name before?

"...As in the former royal family of the German Empire?" her dad asked to their surprise.

"Yes, though it is a rather obscure fact. How did you know?"

Dad scratched the back of his head. "I used to be a history buff back in high school," he replied. "I liked to follow the lineage of empires and their monarchs from Lombardy to Britain."

Chem Bay just nodded. "Well, I suppose that's it for now. I'll be back tomorrow to discuss how our group will work out, if that is okay with you two?"

"Of course."

"Yeah."

"Then have a good day."

The front door opened and clicked shut.

After Chem Bay left, there was a moment of silence between her and dad before dad spoke up. "So what's your cape name?"

"Weaver."

Dad raised an eyebrow. "So that was you and him last week...?"

She nodded.

"You know that was dangerous, right?"

She scoffed. "We live in the bay, dad. Our mortality rate is already high."

Dad grimaced. "I won't dispute that. But why form your own group?" he asked. He looked at Chemical Bay. "What do you gain by teaming up with my inexperienced daughter?"

"Hey!"

Chem Bay looked at dad from the corner of his eyes before turning his head to fully look at Danny in the eyes. "I suppose I could start with how my granddaughter died." They flinched, though Chem Bay didn't; he ignored the flinches and continued. "I have been a cape for a long time, Mr. Hebert. I would not be boasting if I declared that I am one of the oldest living capes in the world," he said as he stroked his white ducktail beard. "In fact, I would say that in the whole of North America, I am the oldest cape."

"That ... is rather bold declaration," dad commented.

"Oh, it definitely is, but it doesn't make it any less true," he said as he reached into his trench coat and pulled out a labeled vial. It was brown and had a lot of age to it. "This here is my first ever project," he explained before handing it to her.

Taylor took the vial and looked it over.

It was a simple thing. A tapered cork stopper, a labeled strip of taped paper, and a brown vial that kept a viscous liquid inside.

Then she read the label and gawked.

[1984.5.20 – Muscle Regenerater v.1]

"1984...?"

Dad blinked and then his eyes widened.

"That's ... just one year after Scion showed up."

"Two," Zacharia corrected. "I'd know it because that's when my granddaughter died to a bunch of gangbangers in New York." And now the Heberts were horrified, both at the cause of his trigger and the callousness of his reveal. "Oh, don't be so shocked. I've had three decades to overcome it."

"What happened?"

"...She just went out one day and didn't return. Next thing I know, I'm getting a phone call from the police. How else do you think happened?" he sighed. "And that is one of the last batch I have of the first chemical I made. Injected a couple hundred cc of the damn thing and went out to hunt the bastards that killed my granddaughter. I found them and tortured them to death."

"...Are you okay with telling us this?"

"Oh, of course. The court ruled it as 'self-defense.' They wanted the troublemaker gone as much as the rest of the locals did, but they weren't going to congratulate me for murder. So they gave me a pat on the shoulder and let me go."

"...Wait, how old are you?"

"Hmm?"

It was Taylor who asked. "You had a granddaughter in 1984, and you let her go out by herself. She must have been at least in her late teens then."

Zacharia narrowed one eye at her. "Sharp one, aren't you, Weaver?"

"It's Taylor when no one's around."

"Hmm. Well, I'm now 113 years old. I'll hit hundred next May."

Taylor gawked at Zacharia.

Her dad gawked at Zacharia.

"... Wait, wait, wait. 113?!" Taylor shrieked.

The man didn't even look like he was over 70! Oh sure, he had magnificently white ducktail beard, slick hair, and a trench coat that looked like it was worth her entire house!

"113?" dad repeated, as if he couldn't fathom such a number being tacked on to someone's age.

Zacharia rolled his eyes. "You realize my tinker specialty is chemistry, yes? Is it so hard to believe that I could have made something to increase my lifespan and vitality?"

Both her dad and Taylor thought about it.

After all, they had Armsmaster, a premier tinker who regularly volunteered to go fight Endbringers with only his tinker armor and weapons.

On second thought, yeah, they could imagine it.

"If I had to classify myself with the idiotic power classification system that the PRT uses, my classification would be Tinker/Trump and my rating would be around 4."

"Only?" dad asked.

Zacharia scoffed. "They care only about a cape's combat potential in those ratings because that's the only thing they deal with."

"Ah."

"Okay... but this doesn't explain why you're okay with teaming up with Taylor."

"I'm not letting my other granddaughter go out on her own, now am I?"

There was a pause.

A bit more explanation.

Dad punched him in the face.

(That turned out to be a mistake. Turns out her grandpa -correction, great-grandpa- had a lot of chem that turned his skin into what amounted to living steel).

(You do not punch the living steel).

SCENE BREAK

PRT

June 13th, 2011

Director Piggot looked around them meeting room.

Unlike the small conference rooms, this room was almost big as a gym, and had enough seats on all sides facing towards the center of the room, where a four sided projector was. In this room right then, there were many members of the PRT but also of the Protectorates, Wards, and the USA military. Why was the military here? The answer was simple: Crimson King possessed an army of its own, and thus PRT needed another army to back them up.

One colonel, four majors, and four CIA agents were invited to partake in this meeting in the aftermath of the Second Battle of the Bay.

On the PRT/Protectorate side, Piggot herself and Director Tagg represented the top commanding tier of the PRT while Armsmaster and Legend represented the Protectorates. Aside from them, there were sixteen different PRT squad leaders from PRT ENE.

She stood up, a silent signal that she was ready and that the meeting would start. Everyone's side conversations came to a halt, and they gave her their attention.

"Thank you for coming today for this meeting regarding what took place in Brockton Bay just a few days ago and what we intend to do. Please note that most of what will be discussed in detail will be about the contingency plan for how the PRT and the USA military will respond to Crimson King should he decide to attack us," she said. When she recieved no reply, she nodded imperceptibly to herself before she continued.

"As you all have been briefed, what is now being called the Second Battle of the Bay occurred on June 11th, 2011 after a parahuman gang originally from the bay itself called hte Teeth entered the bay and began to wreck havok upon the city. In response to Teeth's indiscrimate attack, both the police force and the PRT launched our offensive against the Teeth."

The projector showed a blank map of the bay with multiple red dots where the PRT and the Teeth met in battle.

"What we did not know at the time, though we did suspect it, was that Teeth had attacked gang territories as well, and both Empire Eighty-Eight and Azn Bad Boys retaliated in kind. A routing battle led by the Teeth evnetually led the two gangs into each other and the Teeth's parahuman leadership, causing a three way melee battle at the intersection of Euclid Avenue and 18th Street."

That particular battle was marked with a big fat X on the map. It took in the Docks South, far away from where rest of the skirmishes had broken out. "The parahumans involved in the fight were thus before Crimson King showed up: Lung, Kaiser, Fenja, Oni Lee, Hookwolf, Butcher, Vex, Krieg, and Bakuda. At the start of the fight, Crimson King was sighted in the Boardwalk, killing Hemorrhage of Teeth with his 'zerg' creatures."

The map switched to pictures of the zergs.

"After killing Hemorrhage, Crimson King intervened in the major battle between the three gangs and stole Lung's power. Oni Lee, however, put an end to Crimson King''s duplicate before he could steal more power. Lung is currently in our custody and ready to be shipped out."

Conversations began again, and though it was much more frantic, it was quieter than before.

Piggot sat down. Her part was done.

"What about these zergs?" Legend asked. "They seem ..." The 'like Nilbog's' was unsaid. "What reports have the brave scientists send us?" he asked.

Piggot scoffed, and her reaction was clear for all to see.

"I would like to point out that most of the scientists who have either volunteered or been assigned to observe Crimson King's underground experiments have either compromised their morals so much that I would not be surprised to see them conducting their own experiments or gone insane to the point of submitting themselves to the insane asylum was a 'good thing' that they themselves demanded," she replied. "But they have done their jobs, and the reports of any zerg related experiments they observed are in front of you."

Legend lifted up the thick packet in front of him. It was one of many packets for the whole slew of experiments that the scientists working for the PRT had observed.

He shuddered with a grimace as he remembered meeting Dr. Modusel.

Shortly after the Second Battle of the Bay, the good doctor finally gave in and resigned from his post. His unrelenting loyalty to not just the PRT but the stability of his country and the knowledge that someone had to watch the mad fucker had droven the man insane. Whatever he had seen, the horrors in the labs run by Crimson King was such that Legend felt shivers from just staring at the now insane doctor's eyes.

After reading the latest report and the picture that came with it, Legend was inclined to demand a full purge of Crimson King's labs, and to ensure that he absolutely knew what he was dealing with at the worst, he flipped the packet to the latest report.

'Title: Memetic Horror of the King.'

It was an experiment so important to Crimson King that the cape gave the experiment a title rather than a number, which made Legend wonder.

Which of the two were the true threat to the people he, Legend, was beholden to?

The Zerg?

Or the Horror?

The experiment in question pushed the boundary of what PRT and the world knew about the capabilities of capes, and also reclassified Crimson King's Striker classed Biological Manipulation as a Striker/Tinker. The "Horror" was a bulbus octopus-like creature created by Crimson King with seven eyes and multiple tentacles. Even the picture of the creature was hard to discern because its described defense mechanism was "blending seamlessly into the environment." Yes, Legend was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the photo of the creature and not think of it as decorative part of the wall behind it.

Its "offensive" methods were what gave the "horror" to its name. The observing scientist, Dr. Modusel, swore in his report that the creature was capable of "telepathic scramble, rewritting, and restructure of its target's memories." Due to their inability to stop the Crimson King, the good doctor was forced to watch a living person, whether the man was a criminal or not was secondary, be subjected to the horror.

What was once a Nazi rapist came out swearing he would never again be what he once was. Crying and swearing for his actions. Thinkers employed later to confirm the former Nazi concluded that the man was telling the truth.

That he was utterly disgusted by what he had done in the past to the point that they later found him with a makeshift rope around his neck and a suicide note that begged forgiveness in his cell.

The second subject to the horror was not as coherent as the dead former Nazi.

While the man had not been a rapist, he had led many families to their ruin in the bay, thus hindering the bay's recovery just as much -if not more- as the dead former Nazi. He did not get the same treatment. In fact, the man was now in a Boston hospital's psych ward because all he raved about was the things coming for him in the light. He now lived in a perpetually dark room and screamed as if he had been burnt if light so much as touched him.

The creature could also prevent anyone who saw it from remembering it; none of the scientists that observed it could recall it. Only notes and a single picture were all that remained of that particular experiment since no one could remember it. No one except the Crimson King that is. The cape acknowledged the creature's existence when asked about it.

'Now, how are we supposed to plan against a cape who can create creatures that can mess with our memories and one we can barely acknowledge as something other than part of the background?' he thought to himself.

If that had been the utmost leve of danger that Crimson King's "brood" -as some were calling it-, then there would be no problem.

Unfortunately, it wasn't.

A month ago, Crimson King created a creature that almost got him a kill-order. He himself didn't know the details beyond Rebecca's warning.

"If that thing gets released, we'll be classifying it as 'Worldender.'"

Yeah, it was a scary warning.

Again, how were they supposed to "prepare" to fight Crimson King when he had something that had Alexandria in terrified suspense?

"Legend?"

He looked up.

"Yes?"

"Was there anything you'd like to say regarding Crimson King's Experiment #477?"

Legend thought for a moment before shuffling through the stacks of papers.

"It's the torture centipede. The ones that look like regular centipedes but its toxin renders anyone bit by it in agony for days on end."

Legend winced. "Ah. Well, I guess we can hire more pest control?"

Armsmaster seemed to think about it. "Well, we did have a new Master-class parahuman in the bay. Maybe we can get their help on this."

Sufficed to say, my "failure" to cull all of the villains' parahuman powers left me ... frustrated. It made me do things that weren't ... conducive to my stay in America.

For example, the underground zerg hive.

I looked at the hole beneath me. It was a huge thing. At least two dozen meters in radius alone, the hole in question was huge. What lay within it was even more. All along the walls of the hive were zerg structures ranging from hatcheries to spawning pools. Converted biomass was used to make bridges and resting platforms, and as such, the entire hole, now almost a kilometer deep, looked something like a hole to a biological hell.

The constant screeching of the zergs within it as they play-fought for dominance in their weird hierarchy I didn't know much about didn't make things better.

Well, it didn't make things seem better for the shuddering scientist next to me.

After Dr. Modusel had finally turned in his resignation to the PRT, they sent another victim (because that's what they really were) to keep an eye on me. Unlike Modusel who had chosen to go insane or the half dozen others who chose to become indifferent, this woman chose to be scared all of the time.

She slowly peered over the edge and then whimpered when a particularly loud screech caught her off guard.

"W-W-W-"

Unfortunately, because she was constantly scared in my base, her ability to speak properly also suffered.

Seriously, she stuttered through her whole sentence!

"-h-here?"

"Hmm, what was that?" I asked without looking at her.

"P-P-PR-RT h-has a-ag-greed t-"

I glared at her, finally unable to take her stuttering.

"Woman, stop your stuttering or do not speak at all." On cue, a hydralisk close to the entrance of the Zerg Hole screeched as if it was agreeing with me.

Which it was.

About a week before I had attempted to cull the villains, I had accomplished what should have been an impossibility.

I recreated psionics.

With it, I linked all existing zergs to me and did so with all zergs to come. The end result was my absolute rule over the zerg hive.

Now, one may think that I just gained mastery over a new power right after creating it, but that really wasn't the case. Remember the 100+ clones and other duplicates serving as my additional processors? Well, using them as base for psionic "processing" center, I quite literally brute forced my control over the swarm. Thus, I no longer needed to use Nilbog's power to keep them under my control (it was pretty bad at controlling things anyway).

Still... This wasn't good enough for me. I wanted more power. All of my being demanded that I go hunting for power, now that I had another taste of stealing one.

Lung's power had extreme synergy with Cockatrice Physiology. Using the two together, I became a flaming, more-draconic, and steel feathered monster of death whose eyes killed with a look and that which could not die by mere actions like beheading.

Well, not easily at least.

I suppose disintegration might do the trick for that body.

But then again, I had 20 duplicates at the maximum that can all use all of my powers,and as long as one survives, I can recreate the duplicates to extend my life.

And speaking of surviving...

"WHY?!" Taylor roared as she brought her swarm down on us in a different timeline.

I never quite stopped playing in the other timelines, now did I?

In this timeline, I had gone "berserk" a day or so after Oni Lee's suicide bombing on me. In an attempt to "catch all villains" and cull them, I had rampaged across Brockton Bay, tearing down any and all that stood in my path.

I just happened to be "unlucky" one day when I ripped through Dockworker's Union to get at Krieg and killed Danny by accident.

... Naw, I just wanted to get the Queen of Escalation to come after my ass so I can cull her too.

Her swarms converged on my duplicates, but it was a simple matter of hyper-vibrating the air around us to kill all of the bugs. In a matter of seconds, a swarm numbering in the billions was gone, dropping en masse.

The lead duplicate walked up to Taylor, who was sobbing on her knees.

"Just a bit of curiosity," I taunted as I grabbed her by her neck and kissed her. She struggled as I stole her power. Then as a mercy, I snapped her neck and dropped her.

Her father was gone and her power was gone. She had nothing to live for; better to kill her rather than let her do it to herself.

I cackled as my new power settled in, and I felt insects all around the world around my duplicates. My duplicates all separated ourselves-

-And began to die by a lady with a fedora-

-Goddamn it, Contessa!

"There goes that timeline," I muttered as I collapsed the said timeline.

Yes, every time I decided to "rampage," Contessa would show up sooner or later to put me down.

Contessa: Even Against a Power Thief, She is Too Powerful.

But her power was one I really did want. Just imagine its synergy with any tinker power I had. Forget the Zerg, I could recreate the Tyranid.

And I've gotten close.

So fucking close.

In many of my alternate timelines, I have always made at least an attempt to get her power the moment she was within my reach. I tried to freeze her blood. Tried to get her to enter areas where my weaponized pollens were floating around. Tried everything!

Her power was truly "Path to Victory."

She alone was one power I had yet to taste among any of the big players.

And I wanted it so much.

But it was an unachievable goal... for now.

"M-May I speak?"

I looked back to the new scientist. At least her stuttering's better.

"Okay. Go ahead."

"The P-PRT has agreed to watch o-over your experiments, but t-this is going too far. Y-You've violated multiple laws, especially one against c-creation of p-p-proliferating lifeforms."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, good thing the Zerg don't fuck each other, eh?" I asked. I walked over to her and slung my arm over her shoulder. She squeaked like a mouse. With a large grin, I pointed to one of the side hanging hatcheries. "See that there?" I asked. She nodded with a bit of tremor. "That is a hatchery. I can't be bothered to have the PRT coming after my ass, so I followed their law to a tee, lass. You see, the zerg don't breed in the normal sense. Instead, they have a living structure called the 'hatchery.' And they don't control their breeding rate," I said. Then I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around until she was facing me. Her terrified green eyes stared into my brown. "I do," I uttered with the utmost sincerity. I clapped her shoulders once before letting go. "And yes, go ahead and tell your friends upstairs about it. Also tell them that I will not limit or allow myself to be prohibited from making more zergs. It won't be fun otherwise."

The woman stuttered once before running off.

I watched her leave the bottommost lab, and then scoffed as soon as she was out of my sights. "She didn't even see my latest creation," I mumbled as I felt through my psionic link with the hive a presence that really will get me a Kill Order.

I didn't look when I spoke to it.

"How's the tunnel going?"

"Time to completion: two weeks," a gravel shower like voice growled behind me, causing the entire "lab" to tremble.

"Hmm, that's a bit slow, isnt it?"

"Unable to improve."

"Alright. Keep me updating."

"Yes, father."

"But why?"

It was a question that plagued everyone's mind.

Why?

Again, today's meeting was once more about the madness being conducted in Crimson King's labs. The shit coming out of his labs was stuff of nightmares, and the revelation of a facility capable of mass producing these "zergs" had the entire PRT ENE on alert. Naturally, these reports and their concerns were made known to the Board of Directors of PRT, including Chief Director Brown.

Unfortunately, a confirmation made by the Thinker Tank has confirmed that any move made on Crimson King would be critically disasterous for PRT at best and continental crisis at worst. While details from Thinker Tank was scarce, Piggot was made known that his zergs, the horde of monsters that the Thinker Tank has previously confirmed as a possible world threat, will be the least of their concern.

So here she sat in their biggest meeting room with all of the PRT ENE VIPS, Protectorates, and Wards.

And the question of the day, the reason "why" had been brought up, was why Crimson King did nothing but experiment endlessly in his base.

And the person to utter the latest demand to know was none other than Gallant.

Unlike rest of the capes, Gallant had the worst time out of everyone present. Due to his ability to sense emotions, he had always been aware of things in the background.

And starting from two weeks ago, a bit after the battle that saw Crimson King's first "death," he began to see an emotion that overshadowed the entire city yet did not come from any individual living in it.

... Or rather, it didn't come from any individual that lived above the surface.

When Gallant came up to Armsmaster with the information, he was as confused as his Ward was.

First of all, Gallant reported that the emotion permeating the city -or more specifically, the Downtown- was growing each day. The intensity of the emotion had tripled since its initial discovery.

Second, the emotion was not coming from anyone they could observe.

And considering that Crimson King liked to make monsters below the city...

The question was then answered today when everyone in the meeting room learned about a discovery.

The giant hole in the ground leading to god-knows-where with organic structures growing out of the wall.

A "Hive," as Assault named it before anyone else could.

Thus the question was asked.

Why did Crimson King build the Hive?

Ms. Shawnville, the scientist who had basically served as messenger between Crimson King and the PRT after Dr. Modusel's resignation (yes, this woman is the one who stutters), shakily raised her hand.

Piggot gave her the go with a nod.

"W-What if this is a side-effect of Nilbog's p-power?"

Everyone looked to her, ready to hear what she was thinking about.

"N-Nilbog's first acti-ion was to establish a fiefd-dom for himself. What i-if there is a n-need in Nilbog's power that w-we didn't know about? Something t-that demands a territory instead of s-seeking fights?" she squeaked.

Stares were broken, and most turned to their neighbors to discuss the theory.

It was widely known within the parahuman community that parahumans were more prone to seeking conflict. In fact, there have been studies that showed that parahumans who were confined from conflict became irrational and triggerhappy, even going far as to attack their loved's ones in some of the extreme cases.

The upper echleon of the PRT and Protectorate also knew that this need to fight was generated by the powers themselves. So to Piggot, Armsmaster and Miss Militia, the most experienced individuals in dealing with parahumans, this theory that Nilbog's power demanded territory instead of conflict was ... plausible.

It would actually explain why Nilbog didn't expand out of Ellisberg and kept himself holed up. While Nilbog was certainly not the most self-assured of people, he was smart; the man was an senior accountant before he got fired. He must have known that his creations were too diverse and strong for even the military to fight against, and yet, he never stepped over his territory.

In Miss Militia's mind, it certainly made the scene before her -and the PRT and Protectorate- much more ... reasonable.

Crimson King, she reasoned, must also be affected by Nilbog's power. It's why despite having the strength and the desire to "cull" more powers -as evidenced by stripping of Lung of his power-, he never ever stepped "out of bounds."

His agreement with the PRT was no different from Nilbog's indifference to the outside world!

And what a revelation it was...

To Piggot, that is.

Just like Miss Militia, she had reached the same conclusion in the span of a minute.

Unlike Miss Militia, however, Piggot was all too willing to keep the status quo of Crimson King's esoteric isolation. In fact, while he now hated Crimson King more for the simple fact that he was far more like Nilbog than she realized, she also hatched a tiny plan.

An insane plan, but a good plan.

She would have to discuss it with Chief Director Brown on the plan's validity, though.

'It's strange,' Dinah thought as she skipped into King's building. 'I'm walking into a warlord's base like it's not a big deal.'

She frowned as she realized that she just called her friend a 'warlord,' even if it was ... true.

Crimson King had protected her for the entire duration of the 'Teeth Skirmish' a month ago, which had devastated a lot of places. King went far as to claim his protection over her in the underground of Brockton Bay, and that ensured her safety wherever she was. Since then, she had visited King's place for more often than her parents would have liked.

Though the horrors he made in his labs should have gotten him numerous Kill Orders, Crimson King's potential rampage cowed the protectors of innocents to compromise. He had basically bullied the PRT and Protectorate into looking the other way when it came to his eccentric desires.

The funny part?

He doesn't even care because he knew that if it came to a fight, he could fight them off easily.

She had once asked him about it too.

"Why do you ignore everyone above?" she asked.

He gave her an annoyed look before answering. "They're too weak to make me do anything. I've already culled them all once."

Her power replied that by reporting, [99.999% that he had used Coil's power to experiment endlessly, and finds no desire to cull Brockton Bay's parahuman population]

"...Did you ever cull me?" she asked, fullying knowing that Crimson King knew about the mechanism of her power.

He stopped his little experiment, something about transfusing flesh, and looked at her right in the eye.

"Yes."

[99.999% chance that he has culled me multiple times using Coil's power. Finds my power meaningless.]

"Then why do you keep me around?"

"Because you haven't given me a reason to boot you out, unlike the PRT interns."

[76.133% chance that he grew attached to me.]

Damn her power for being vague about that attachment. She risked headache to ask if he "like" liked her, but no. She was kind of upset at finding out that he just liked to see her frustrated sometimes.

She jumped down the stairs, two steps at a time, until she reached the basement. Then she broke into a run and jumped.

From beneath her, Crimson King's shadowy hands rose out of her shadow and wrapped her into a sideways koala hug.

"I told you not to abuse my senses for a bit of hugging," his shadow body growled, not even looking down as it continued her path at a more sedate pace.

"But it's fun having you catch me like that!" she giggled.

"Gah, troublesome girl," he grunted.

Sometimes, she was the one to frustrate him too.


	4. Chapter 4

Deep within my base in Brockton Bay, I sat upon a throne made out of flesh and bone. The zergs around me laid sleeping.

It was far above and different from what I once called home half a year ago, but I have never felt more at home than now. Perhaps that was due to the psionic hivemind that I had become the central pillar of. Within the hivemind, I had become both the king and the father of all zerg on this planet. Though they weren't completely connected -because there was no need-, I could still feel each and every single one of them in my mind. When I concentrated upon a single signal within the hivemind, I felt, saw, and heard what that zerg was doing.

And right now, my focus was upon my strongest "son." He was in the crust of the Earth, digging a hole to our destination. His teeth broke through rocks like hot knife through butter, his mouth devoured the stuff, and his stomach crushed them to dust. Useful materials were kept within him while the rest were excreted from behind. Drones would compress the waste and toss it out of the tunnel.

I needed this tunnel to be complete.

What I did here was ... not right. Unethical, as the rest of the world would say.

They wouldn't understand the need. Tinkers did, but even then, they were bound by the views of their peers. If not, then they would be bound by their mechanical needs.

They didn't have a physical need like I did.

Like Nilbog did before I reaped him.

It was a fucking curse.

The need to gather more, whatever it may be. For Nilbog, it was flesh that he could shape.

I had inherited Nilbog's need to gather more, but I desired power, instead.

Parahuman powers.

It was maddening, now that I could calmly think about it without trying to find ways to improve myself. I thought it was just part of a whim, using Coil's timelines to "play" because it was a "simulation."

No. I realize it now that I was trying to stave my hunger. I was justifying the deaths of people in other timelines because at the very core of my being, even I considered it wrong. Simulations?

No, they weren't simulations. Coil's power was not a Thinker that simulated timelines. It was taking control over his own alternate versions in timelines with almost no difference.

After all, even a butterfly wing's single flap led to an alternate timeline.

A hydralisk coiled around my throne and laid its head into my lap, obviously sensing my distress. It purred, though it sounded more like a tiger with its rumbling.

I stroked its chitinous head gently.

The need to reap and cull powers was strong, but if I gave into it in America, Contessa would come after me.

Europe was too big and varied. I would be too well tracked there.

Asia was dominated by Imperial China.

Middle East's parahumans died more frequently than mayflies.

It really left me one place to satisfy my hunger.

Africa.

The Continent of Parahuman Warfare.

'Father.'

My eyes opened. What time was it? What day was it?

How long had the main body been on this throne?

'Father, the tunnel is now half complete.'

...

Good, goood. That is good. We'll get to Africa soon.

I'll be able to contain this hunger soon enough.

When I woke up again, it was to the banging on the vault door. Groggily, I realized that I had fallen asleep again, and that the duplicates and clones had disappeared with my sleeping.

I quickly created a clone and sent it to answer the door.

It was Dinah.

Clone led her to me and I frowned. "Is it Saturday already?"

For some asinine reason, one of my duplicates had promised last Sunday to buy her ice cream on Saturday. Though I was connected with the duplicate, my central mind had been busy with something else, so I don't quite remember what happened to get me to agree to buy her that ice cream.

Dinah gave me a deadpan stare.

"It's been two weeks since then," she said flatly. "87.26% chance that you slept the entire two weeks."

Huh.

'Did I?' I asked my son.

'You did, father.'

Huh.

"...Do you still want that ice cream?"

"If you can deal with the PRT soon, then yes. 77.91% chance that they will be sending a big wig to talk with you in the next hour. The chance increases by 5% for each hour that passes once this hour passes."

"Thank you for the head's up."

"I demand enough ice cream."

I scoffed. "You know, I can make you the cutest pet, but you demand more ice cream?"

"I like my instant gratification," she grinned.

I looked at her for a moment before grinning too. "Big words for a little lady, hmm?"

She thought punching my rock hard and tinker-enhanced ab was a good idea. Also, I didn't know she would take offense at her height.

She was an eleven year old.

... Are eleven year old girls supposed to worry about their heights?

I led my tired self out of the base with Dinah in tow towards Boardwalk, where her favorite ice cream shop was.

To my consternation, I was met by Miss Milita after Dinah got her huge bucket of chocolate ice cream.

"Yes...?" I asked as I gestured Dinah to take a seat next to me.

The shop was more or less abandoned at this point. My face was already widely known in the internet -and thus the world- because I didn't bother to mask myself. Everyone knew I had a horde of monsters. Why bother with a security measure called mask when I had a flesh wall of monsters?

Miss Militia was unlike Armsmaster. She seemed to keenly observe Dinah and I. Armsmaster would have finished three sentences in the length of time Miss Militia took to look at us.

"Ice cream?" she asked.

I frowned. "I am not buying for you."

Dinah tugged at my lab coat.

I looked at her.

She looked back with a frown as equally as grave as a tombstone.

"She's a hero."

"...So?"

"Buy her."

"No."

"Don't make me use my power to get you to buy her ice cream."

"That's illegal."

"Like you care about laws."

"...Fine," I grunted. I knew that the little midget already asked her power enough questions to get me to do whatever she wanted. I looked at Miss Militia. "What ice cream do you want?"

She seemed amused if the upward crinkled and definitely laughing eyes were any indiciation. "Strawberry."

"Argh, plebian," I grunted before walking up to the register. "A small bowl of straberry ice cream."

Once that was dealt with, I sat down again. "Again, what are you here for? Didn't think Dinah's big wig was you, Miss Militia."

Miss Militia glanced at Dinah before she looked back at me.

"The PRT just wants to know what you have been doing for the past two weeks," she said. "You haven't opened up your base for those two weeks. It made many of us ... wary, if not outright panicking."

I scratched the back of my head. It was annoying having to answer to authority figures, not that they had actual power over me. But it was a necessary appearance I kept up. "Slept the entire two weeks."

"...Why?"

"Preparing. Thinking. Experimenting," I waved away at her incredulous look. "Nothing I haven't been doing the past few months."

Out of nowhere, an irritating siren rang. Someone must be stealing around us. Kind of dumb since Miss Militia was here.

I frowned. "Is there a store ge-" I paused.

Miss Militia was pale.

Hell, everyone was frozen.

"Oi oi, what's wrong with you all?"

And then I got it before anyone answered me.

"Oh. Endbringer Siren."

250

Akallas von Aerok

Dec 12, 2017

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Dec 30, 2017

#269

I could tell that the heroes were in a hurry.

Miss Militia did leave in a hurry, after all.

I wasn't in a hurry, though. Why? I had no stake in this. If the city died, then cool, I have a place no one cares about that I could roam free. Hell, it might lead to a small fiefdom for myself if people decide to come live under me. If the city lived, then sweet. They lived through Leviathan(I think that's the Endbringer coming to the bay if I can recall correctly), and I could go on doing what I always did without more trouble.

I mean, I seriously doubted that the PRT would bother me when there was a whole city above me that needed more management than a drugged out celebrity. I might even lend them a hand if they let me secret away especially troublesome parahumans for my ... personal use.

The Endbringer Siren continued to ring and the people around me continued to panic.

I just sipped my tea one more time before leaving behind a few dollars for tip and leaving the shop.

"Come, Dinah. Let's get you somewhere safe, hmm?" I asked the shaking little girl besides me. "We might even catch a few looters on the way home."

We actually did catch three.

To my joy, one was a parahuman with a Shaker power I haven't seen before, and since she was breaking the Endbringer Truce...

Nom nom nom.

Dubbed by me as "Magnetic Sundering," it broke away large iron-based metals to create and control iron sand. It was useless in the way its former owner used it (just creating an iron sand storm). It also had a small range, though, so I'm probably going to use it to supplement close quarter Blood Control.

Dinah frowned at me.

I looked at her and shrugged. "Hey, she broke the truce, not me."

"81.13% that she didn't know about Unwritten Rules and thus Endbringer Truce."

"Who doesn't know about that these days."

"I didn't."

I shrugged. "You're a special little case, Dinah. I won't begrudge you for that."

She just glared at me.

There was a loud boom above me, and I looked up. Almost nine stories above me was a snake-like armored suit.

It was Dragon.

"You got here fast," I grinned as I greeted the secret-AI-thinker/tinker. "Nice to meet you, Dragon."

Dragon's suit stared down at me.

"Crimson King, you have broken the Endbringer Truce."

Dinah raised her hand, and Dragon turned her suit's head just a bit towards her.

"The parahuman girl he killed was looting and harming people first. King just culled them because he now had an excuse."

"Dinah, don't tell the nice lady bad things about me. I have hots for her!" Not.

"Unfortunately, I am not entering into a relationship any time soon, but I came to ask you for help, Crimson King," Dragon spoke.

"... Well, speak."

"We want to borrow your biological -"

"Just call 'em zergs."

"...We would like to borrow your zergs for search and rescue operations."

I smiled. "On one condition."

"Name it."

"In exchange for my zerg's cooperation, I want the US government to hand over 5 criminal parahumans in their custody. I only want their powers, so I'll release the humans free afterwards. I also don't care what powers they have as long as it's not similar to any one of my existing powers." I raised my hand before Dragon spoke up. "I also know that you're Canadian, and thus not liable for making such promises. As such, I want you to deliver that message not just to Legend and Chief Director Costa-Brown but also to the president of United States of America." My smile was pretty feral at that point, but I didn't bother hiding it.

"You would refuse working with us to protect the city?"

I scoffed. "Your volunteers come because they have a reason. I have no reason to participate."

"But your base is in this city-!" Dragon tried to 'reason' with me.

I laughed. "Do you even know how big my base is?"

There was a pause as Dragon tried to answer that. It was a bit before she answered. "That has nothing to do with-"

"What I mean to say is that even if the entire city is flooded, it wouldn't harm any of my facilities."

"What if the Endbringer comes after you?"

I paused.

"... Then I'll run."

Dinah looked at me in shock.

"I know I can't fight a fucking Endbringer. No one can," I spat. "No matter how many powers I gather, I will never be able to fight on equal footing to Endbringers."

I am right about this. The book said that Endbringers had a body that became denser and denser until the only thing equally dense as the Endbringers were neutron stars. How their bodies didn't generate gravity of their own was a point of debate, but it was critical information. Actually, I should tell Dragon about that.

"Dragon!" I shouted, calling to her attention. "Forgot to tell you this. Endbringers become denser towards the center of its body. If you intend to actually kill it, you'll need non-conventional attacks!"

Dragon paused before nodding. "I'll confirm it with the Thinkers. If it's true, thank you for the information."

With that, she flew off.

"Why not help them?"

I looked at Dinah, and I was about to repeat what I just told Dragon.

But I didn't.

I saw Dinah's horrified face.

'Right,' I thought to myself. 'Dinah's parents.'

Unlike Vista, Dinah was still lived with her parents -because that was the normal thing. She loved her parents, and I just declared that I could care less if they died.

I scratched the back of my head.

"I-I can't see where Endbringers are involved," she said as she scrunched her face, obviously asking a lot of questions. Her eyelids began to twitch and she hissed.

'A lot more questions than she normally would be asking.'

"B-But if you c-can prevent most of the city from g-g-goi-ing under-!" she squeaked towards the end.

"And what do I get?"

She glared at me.

"You already have me, asshole!" she shouted.

It only made me grin.

"But my friendship with you can only account for so much..." I teased. "Besides, I've already had your power multiple times...:"

Her glare only intensified. Then she whimpered, spilling tears.

"9-91.50% chance that your base won't s-stand if you g-g-g-go there."

I narrowed my eyes.

"... Did you just ask your power what I think you asked?"

Despite the obvious pain shewas going through, she grinned triumphantly at me.

"Leviathan is here for you," Dinah teased back.

I frowned.

It wasn't a certainly, but Dinah's declaration had merit.

"Well played," I grunted.

Dinah fainted.

Dragon looked surprised when she saw Crimson King jumping towards the PRT headquarter.

"Crimson King inbound from the south," she announced.

Almost everyone turned their heads south. They saw the aforementioned man jumping across building roofs.

"... Is he hostile?" Dauntless asked.

Dragon had noted that Dauntless was the Protectorate most fearful of Crimson King.

"We're not sure-"

Then he was among them.

Everyone jumped back from the newcomer.

"I'm here to help... cuz a little midget told me to."

There was a bit of silence before Dragon spoke up.

"Thank you for helping, Crimson King."

He clicked his tongue. "Just don't get in my way," he replied condescendingly. "Or in the ways of my hive." Then he breathed in deep and screeched.

It lasted for only two seconds, but it was bone-shakingly piercing. Many grasped their ears in pain. When it was over, it was replied from different corners of the city with the screech of same pattern but in much greater numbers.

Soon, a rumbling took over the city.

Dragon focused on the visuals provided by her satellites, and gawked.

"Dear God."

From uninhabited hillsides and Crimson King's base, carapace-armored and spike-armed monsters poured out like the Great Flood. The combined stampede of the assemblying monsters shook the city in rumbles.

And the heroes?

They just watched in horror. Many were aware of what Crimson King had done several months ago. They watched the "swarm" then, and then tried to compare it to one before them.

It was ... impossible, so to speak.

The primary force of Crimson King's force when it first appeared was a creature of claws, spikes, and four legs.

The primary force of the force before them now was a snake-like slithering horror with two scythes longer than most people and standing taller than Narwhal, Guild's leading cape.

Then a huge rumbling took over the tiny trembles. To the heroes at the center of the city, it felt like it came from all sides.

And Crimson King looked like a maniac. The sheer glee radiating off of him was comparable to a kid on sugar high being told that he was going to get his most wanted game. Well, except for the fact that Crimson King's blood helmet twisted into looking like a lunatic devil with two horns.

Was the blood mentioned before?

There was a resounding explosions from all corners of the city, and even Legend paled as monsters big as the Endbringers themselves poured out of giant holes in the ground made by their explosive entrance to the surface world. Armed with scythes big enough to negate tank armor with ease and armored to the point that no tank shells could hope to penetrate its shells... The Endbringer volunteers were starting to feel like Endbringer was less of a problem now.

Hey, there were only three Endbringers.

Crimson King could make more of these guys.

"Meet my second strongest children, ladies and gentlemen! My Ultralisks!" Crimson King cackled.

Dinah sighed as she facepalmed while being carried away from the city on a hydralisk and a duplicate of Crimson King.

The duplicate cackled unapologetically.

251

Akallas von Aerok

Dec 30, 2017

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

May 18, 2018

#289

Chemical Bay

He had lived for a long time. He lived and fought through World War I as a prince of the Second Reich. He had seen the horrors of World War II, the unbareable tension of the Cold War, and the rise of the Parahumans. He was there when Behemoth struck New York.

And he saw one line of his descendents die off within the span of a year.

He stood here, in defense of Brockton Bay, because his last line of descendents – his last great-granddaughter – lived here. There was simply no one else in his family anymore directly connected to him besides her.

So when he saw that Crimson King pull out one of his trump cards – ones meneacing looking as Behemoth, bigger than Leviathan, and more powerful than any single parahuman – in the form of those "Ultralisks," Chemical Bay felt better instead of horrified like most of the Protectorate and the villains.

After all, if those Ultralisks gave the Bay a better chance of survival, he was all for it. So while the rest of the capes on the scene were staring in horror, Chemical Bay weaved through the crowds on the top of the PRT ENE HQ rooftop and walked up to Crimson King.

Crimson King looked like a mean son of a bitch himself.

Armored in flowing blood, his red, horned visage made Chemical Bay shiver. Having seen a lot of horror, Chemical Bay developed an instinct for danger, which was further honed by his long days spent in hiding as a lab tinker. Seeing the man up close and personal, Chemical Bay felt that instinct rouse up but it didn't flare like it would in front of a firing gun and neither did it scream like when he saw the Butcher.

His instinct acknowledged Crimson King's power but didn't see any danger in being around him.

'My gut feeling could be quite expressive when it needs to,' Chemical Bay thought to himself as he stopped behind Crimson King.

There was a pause before the red cape turned around.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

The cape stared at him. There was a bit of curiosity in that stance, the look, and the tilt of the head. It reminded Chemical Bay of a cat.

Crimson King shrugged. "I'm not doing this to be charitable, you know."

Chemical Bay smiled at Crimson King trying to be casual. "Oh, but it's an ace up your sleeve you revealed in defense of the city. I'd still like to thank you for that, even if your creepy crawlies are giving me goosebumps," he added, gesturing to the other zergs now swarming the city's streets and rooftops.

They had come when everyone was distracted by the ultralisks, pouring out of the sewers and small holes in alleys.

"If you want to, then you're welcome," Crimson King replied, taking a slight bow. "But the fight's not even begun, you know."

Chemical Bay nodded. "Good luck, Crimson King," he said and then left the scene.

Now, he was looking for his great-granddaughter. If he knew anything about her, then it was that Weaver was not going to hide like a civilian. She was more likely to come out here to help in any way possible than not. It was in her blood, one which originated not from him but from her great-grandmother.

And then, he found her. Isolating herself to be more visible at the corner of the rooftop, Weaver sat on the ledge of the building, waiting.

"Young lady, if someone pushed you off right now and you got hurt, then your dad and I are not going to be happy," he chided as he approached.

Weaver looked over her shoulder.

"Oh, hi grandpa," she said.

Chemical Bay grinned underneath his gas mask. Ever since finding out that they were family, Taylor began to call him 'grandpa,' which was perhaps because 'great-grandpa' is harder to say every time than 'grandpa.' She still had some reservation, and she was particularly unhappy about how he hadn't shown up to Annette's funeral (he had, but she didn't believe him) and even more unhappy about leaving her and Danny out to dry for so long without contact.

He didn't have excuse for the latter, so he hoped to make it up to both her and Danny.

The rain began to pour down hard.

Crimson King

I commanded the ultralisks to get into position to ram Leviathan the moment that son of a bitch stepped into the city. Unlike the rest of my zergs, the ultralisks were big – if not bigger – than Leviathan itself, and unlike most, ultralisks stood on four legs, giving it twice the standing power compared to a bipedal.

It was this that I counted on the ultralisks for to hit Leviathan with – or withstand one of Leviathan's charges. I didn't believe in any form that the ultralisks could stop Leviathan. What they were, however, was a buffer between me and Leviathan. They were to soak up as much damage as they could before Leviathan got into close quarter combat with me, which was inevitable if Dinah's prediction was on spot.

In either case, I needed to prepare myself for the single biggest attack to both immobilize – and if I am lucky, kill – Leviathan to the best of my abilities.

For that, I was going to depend on Umbrakinetic Construct. The plan was this: since umbrakinetic constructs could not be broken by conventional attacks like Leviathan's fists and water, it would be used to restrain the bastard.

I knew for a fact that none of my powers were capable of drilling through an Endbringer's exponentially dense body, so the best I could do was prevent Leviathan from being able to physically affect the world.

Now, that left the aquifer and the ocean, which Leviathan can use to absolutely wreck the entire city. Hopefully, those Shakers with barrier powers will mitigate some of the damage to the city, because -let's face it- it's impossible to mitigate the entire damage. I certainly wasn't going to use my power elsewhere when I was going to be engaging Leviathan.

... Hmm, maybe one of my duplicates can.

I split myself off right there on the spot, which earned me some gasps from the capes still too afraid to approach me. Then the duplicate morphed into a cockatrice and jumped away towards the coastline.

It began to rain... and there was a tidal wave on the horizon approaching the city fast. Like race car fast.

"1 minute to Leviathan's landing!"

"Crimson King, what was the purpose of your clone?" Alexandria asked as she approached me.

"Well, I'll be primarily using my shadows to fight Leviathan, so I made a duplicate -that's the correct term by the way for my ability using clones- so that he can make trees to better absorb the crashing power of the tidal waves."

I saw Armsmaster approach and Kaiser do so as well. "You think a few trees will save the city?" the latter demanded.

"Well..." I muttered before looking towards the coastline. "My duplicate should get there before Leviathan, so maybe?" I shrugged.

"1 minute!"

No one moved to intercept the beast so close to the water. That was suicide as many have learned over the decades.

"30 seconds!"

"Come on, come on," I muttered to myself, looking through the eyes of my Cockatrice duplicate.

"20!"

I got there. The Wood Manipulation Duplicate (WMD) immediately changed back to human form and touched the grass next to the sidewalk on the other side of the road from the beaches. With but a few tweaks of my Biological Manipulation, the grass was now a tree.

And what was a tree was under my control far better than with mere Biological Manipulation.

Immediately, the "tree" -still the size of a grass- grew rapidly.

"15!"

Its roots reached out sideways, sprouting more stems and trunks as they popped out of the dirt. These stems grew rapidly, shooting up and sideways. Then when they were almost 4 stories high, more trees began to pop up behind the first row of trees -now covering at least a mile of coast- to reinforce the first layer.

"5!"

... Yeah, I was not going to make it.

"4...3...2...1-!"

My WMD felt the tidal wave far better than anyone alive -except maybe Alexandria, Eidolon, and Lung. I watched both from there on the beach and from the rooftop of PRT ENE HQ as the tidal wave at least fifteen stories high crashed into my hastily constructed barricade and demolish it. My WMD clone popped when Leviathan itself stomped on the duplicate, following in the wake of the tidal wave.

The barricade did do some good because it reduced the size of the tidal wave where it struck and the mile-stretch of the beachfront property in the Docks was not completely obliterated like the rest.

And by obliterating such large amount of land, Leviathan made its own trap by providing me with a huge area where shadow existed in perpetuity of the battle to come.

I reached out physically with my hands, cupping the air in front of me below the chest at arm's length, and I heaved them up.

On command, the shadows shot up from the flooded areas of the city in the form of a thousand and more tendrils of eyes and mouths, and converged on Leviathan's position.

And Leviathan itself made a shadow underneath it.

Leviathan's own shadow reached out with the speed of a lightning strike and grabbed onto the Endbringer's limbs.

The sudden stop caused the water around it to surged and dip, disrupting the constant flow the Endbringer had been maintaining.

And then it was lifted out of the water.

I hissed as pain flared in my shadow sense. It was telling me that it was too heavy like how a muscle would burn from the stress of lifting something too heavy. It was going to fail soon.

Not that it would, because mere seconds after Leviathan was forced out of the water, tendrils from all over the city were there to wrap around it.

From where I stood with the rest of the capes, it was like ten thousand strings came together to hold Leviathan up in the air.

"Now's our chance!" someone shouted.

Legend looked to me, and I saw him do so from the corner of my eyes.

"I can make more even if you all destroy them," I grunted. "So fire away already! The bastard is heavier than carrying a goddamn feeding Teemo!"

They were confused by what I was spouting, but acted on my words anyway.

"All Blasters, fire!" Legend shouted, leading the Blasters.

"Brutes and Movers, follow me!" Alexandria commanded through the Endbringer fight wristband's comm.

Eidolon remained aloof, assessing the situation -and probably trying to find the right power to do the most damage.

I made a duplicate, even as I held my hands in position. The duplicate, in charge of Biological Manipulation, turned to the rest of the capes. "Healers with me!" I shouted through the duplicate, and split off two more duplicates from it. These were now what I called Biological Manipulation Duplicates 1, 2, and 3 (BMD#).

And then as one, my ultralisks jumped out of the rubble and charged the bastard down. With the waters ankle deep for the ultralisks -whose ankles were twice the average height of man-, their charge was not affected by the waters. They rammed into the Endbringer, slicing away with their giant scythes, only for Leviathan to break one of its arms free and crush one of the ultralisks's brains in a smashing pound.

I frowned as I summoned more tendrils to take place of the broken ones.

POV BMD3

(Still Crimson King)

Less than five minutes since Leviathan made touchdown and casualties were already coming in.

I heard Dragon and other capes talk about my ultralisks taking the fight to melee ranges. The capes warned each other of the rampaging ultralisks, and commands telling the capes to back the fuck up if the ultralisks got into melee range with Levaithan.

So far, the ultralisks were barely scratching through the Endbringer's skin while they were going down one by one, all of which I confirmed through the eyes and senses of the original body.

One S&R team brought a legless body to me, crying about saving the man.

I created a clone on the spot and then killed it with a energy blast to the head, horrifying the S&R. And in front of their eyes, I touched the dead and still twitching body, and it turned into a goo of unrecognizable biomass. I took a chunk of that biomass, which bled everywhere when I tore said chunk off the entire thing, and stuck it to dying cape's wounds. I directed the biomass throughout the cape's body, sealing wounds and restoring glycogen and fat supplies where needed.

I chunked another biomass and attached it to the no longer dying cape's leg stumps, and molded the biomass using the cape's genes. I strengthened the leg muscles, simulating tears and mends, until a pair of normal legs were back on.

Finally, I slapped the cape awake, boosting the man's adrenaline during the brief touch of the slap.

"Wakey, wakey. I need you to get off the table so that the next person the team here finds can use it."

With that said, I ignored the gaping S&R team and the slowly waking cape. I made a bucket out of wood (nearby grass converted into wood, quickly grown, and then manipulated into becoming a airtight bucket), condensed the leftover biomass, and then fit that into the bucket.

I looked through the eyes of one of the clones in the base, far away from the battle. We looked at the clock and saw that only 1 minute had passed since the S&R team had brought the man to this body.

"NEXT!" I roared just after another ultralisk went down from a punctured head. It seemed that Leviathan knew that hurting the ultralisks anywhere but the head, which armored and hardened to levels comparable to low level Brutes and tank armor plating, was useless.

I was quickly ushered to the next patient. This time, it was a civilian who couldn't get away from the city fast enough and were found by one of the rescue teams.

Her ribcage was crushed. I didn't even need biomass for this. I touched her shoulder, and mended the ribcage.

"NEXT!" I roared again.

Abruptly, I was pulled aside by Panacea, who had a dead yet crazed look in her eyes.

"I need that biomass."

Then she took it from my hands and just left.

I blinked once and then twice. I shrugged.

"Please don't do it-" someone muttered from behind me.

I made a clone, killed it by twisting the head around (fun fact: the clone lived for four more seconds after having its neck snapped), and turned that into biomass again.

Someone threw up behind me.

Bah, weaklings. It's not like they're the ones who just felt their neck get snapped or get their face blasted off, because I felt all those!

Someone screamed about their missing arm.

Right, next patient.

Original Body

Crimson King

I screamed as I landed on my back after being flung across five blocks by Leviathan's punch. My body punched through a wall and then another wall.

Five more walls after that, I popped out of a building through the other side from where I entered and then fell down to the ground.

With a flip in the air, I landed on my toes instead of my head.

The building I ran through like a bullet collapsed on me as Leviathan -who I was keeping track of through my Zerg Swarm's psionic network- body slammed it. I jumped back a hundred feet backwards with the help of my power-boosted and reinforced body. Leviathan jumped towards me, and I morphed myself into a cockatrice.

Now the same size as each other, Leviathan ripped into my body as I melted away his skin.

And all the while, I was letting Lung (deceased)'s power, Escalating Dragon, build up within me. If I was going to use that, then it would be one majestic go.

I tossed my long cockatrice neck down along with my head when Leviathan tried to grab me. In return, I unleashed a scream that shredded away at the surface of his body.

Oh, I knew that it did nothing, but Leviathan was putting up a show. I wondered for a brief second if he knew that I knew that he was putting up a show.

Just ... one ... more ... minute...!

I changed myself back to a human form and jumped away. Leviathan missed me by a wide margin between the retreat and the change in form.

I changed back.

And finally, I was ready.

Just as Leviathan jumped towards me again for another round of grappling, I let Escalating Dragon take form on top of my Cockatrice Physiology.

Leviathan paused to take in what was happening before it.

I felt my muscles grow rapidly, almost like bubbles spewing out of soap water. My bone grew stronger. I grew wider. I grew taller. My Cockatrice mouth, which was already deadly, grew even deadlier as teeth the size of a man's forearm grew as large as a man each.

Wings sprouted from my back. It too grew explosively until I had a pair of leathery yet feathered wings as tough as ultralisk's carapace.

I now towered over Leviathan by at least thrice its height.

With that ... I did something that could backfire on me stupidly, but it would act as a multiplier for my already stacked number of powers. It wouldn't be able to use any of the other powers -simply because I wouldn't have the mind for it- once I turned this on.

So...

'Time to begin Experiment #415: Triple Offensive Power Stacks vs. Leviathan.'

Weaver

She watched that thing that was Crimson King grow and grow. It eventually towered over Leviathan and didn't stop growing.

Dark green and brown wings almost exploded out of his back and then grew so big that an entire park could fit on the area those wings covered. Along with the wings, Crimson King's reddish purple and green body dominated the scene, and didn't stop growing.

Towering over Leviathan like Leviathan did to the rest of the capes, Crimson King was now the single largest thing she could see.

Its sickly yellow eyes stared at Leviathan.

With an abrupt flicker, that sickly yellow became bright red, and it looked like it was steaming from the way it left behind a short trail.

And then he roared.

The entire city shook from the mere vibration of his roar and she found herself having to cling to the edge of the rooftop she was on just to have something sturdy supporting her.

Last edited: Nov 24, 2018

222

Akallas von Aerok

May 18, 2018

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Jun 5, 2018

#301

Emily Piggot

She stared at the literal mountain of flesh and bones roaring into the sky. As it was, it was taller than Medhall, which was a thirty story building.

"That's Crimson King?" she hissed to herself.

Everyone in Brockton Bay knew that Crimson King killed Lung, but now it was confirmed that he took the man's power as well.

Crimson King, as he was in that state, was a natural disaster on par with the Endbringers.

Abruptly, the roar seized, and the collosal mountain moved. Its bulk slammed into Leviathan, who took the attack head-on. Even so, it was pushed back. The streets and the buildings next to the roar tore as Leviathan dug a channel with its feet and Crimson King smashed aside basically eveverything.

"Dragon," she called for the ever-present yet physically not present cape. "Call the capes off from the fight until Crimson King calms down. As it is, they'll just be collateral," she grunted.

"Yes, ma'am," Dragon said. "Crimson King has engaged Leviathan in a new form! All capes are to disengage from the fight until Crimson King minimizes himself!" Dragon relayed the order through the Endbringer wristbands.

Emily saw Movers and Brutes disengage, Breakers make a run for it, and even some Blasters retreat further as the two titans threw each other down.

Crimson King snarled as he bit down on Leviathan and threw him up into the air.

The Island Sinker flew up into the air like a cartwheeling ragdoll, and Crimson King roared. This was different from the previous roar in that it was the same power that was used by Crimson King to demolish the entirety of Ellisburg.

Even from where she was, Emily saw the air vibrate in a cone shape with such intensity that the rainclouds above tore apart and left the sky clear where the attack struck.

Leviathan's entire skin later just exploded, leaving the creature covered in black blood. The Endbringer didn't even flinch. Instead, it brought the rainclouds together, condensing all of the water, and slammed it down.

A literal waterfall from the heavens, wider and thicker than the Empire State Building, fell upon Crimson King.

Such was the pressure that the immediate area around Crimson King sunk, and what few building that still stood broke away when the new flood swept them aside.

Crimson King himself took the brunt of the force, but ended up having to use his wings to cover himself.

Through this, Leviathan struck. Faster than it ever moved before, it came down in the waterfall and slammed into the back of the Goblin Slayer.

Crimson King bellowed, but under both the weight of the Endbringer and the pressure of the waterfall, he caved in when Leviathan struck down at the base of his skull.

"Crimson King, down!"

Emily Piggot closed her eyes. Even the Goblin Slayer was no match for Leviathan.

"Crimson King, recovered!"

She groaned. Does that man ever stop?

Just as the waterfall stopped, Crimson King -in all of his skyscraper sized draconic form- flipped onto his back, splashing water into flood originating from him, and grabbed Leviathan ... and then proceeded to bite and tear at the Endbringer.

Leviathan grabbed the twisted off Crimson King's front Manpower-sized teeth, sending it flying towards her.

Emily jumped up, but bowled over in pain as her kidneys decided that now was the time to act up.

She watched in defeat as the giant teeth flew towards her -

Only to be intercepted by Shielder.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" he asked her.

"No... but thank you," she grunted. It was her turn to be surprised when Shielder collapsed to his knees and then fell backward. The giant teeth had penetrated the boy's shield and had stabbed into his chest.

"PANACEA!" she shouted for the healer. "Shielder, down!" she shouted. She moved as quickly as she could to prevent the giant teeth from crushing the young cape.

Only for her effort to be tossed aside when someone kneeled next to her and used one hand to pull the teeth out, causing blood to squirt out of Shielder, who was gasping.

"What the hell are you-?!" she began but stopped when she saw the wound begin to close. She turned to look, and saw Crimson King... or a clone of him.

"Nothing too damaging. He could go back into the fight as soon as he wakes up." At which point, he slaps Shielder. "NEXT!"

And then he was gone like the wind.

What the fuck did she just experience?

Panacea

Amy felt frustrated. She always did when she was in an Endbringer battle. The time she spent healing someone was always long compared to her hospital visits, and time spent healing someone was time someone died, which was especially truer in the Endbringer battles.

But what she was frustrated by today was not her own inability, but Crimson King's ability.

The man made clones of himself, and all of them were off healing. They healed capes far faster than she could, moved faster than she could, and completed jobs and emergency treatments than she could.

It infuriated that the villain had such power but refused to help others aside from himself. But perhaps that's why he was a villain.

"Thank you," her patient -some villain from South America- said. The cape stood up and ran back into the battle, ignoring the fact that she had lost her arm scant few minutes ago, and that it was only because of a bucket of biomass and Panacea that she had her arm back. Panacea looked away from her and went to the next patient in line.

It was Aegis. He was healing, but it was going slowly. She could see that immediately because there was not enough meat on him to recover. Redundant biology, he may have, but when one's entire chest is missing, it's still hard to breathe.

Without any preamble, Panacea just dumped the entire content of the wooden bucket into Aegis's missing chest cavity and touched his bare shoulder. The biomass slowly moved, filling up the cavity, forming new bones, skin, organs, blood vessels and -.

When she stopped, it was thirteen minutes later, eleven minutes slower than Crimson King's clones.

Aegis slowly woke up. He saw her and grinned weakly.

"Ow."

She huffed. "Have to go."

He nodded but laid there, a small reprieve for his part in the battle.

234

Akallas von Aerok

Jun 5, 2018

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Threadmarks 3.6 Loss

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Jul 3, 2018

#310

When I came to, the battle was over.

I lifted my definitely-over-the-top draconic body with my throbbing muscles only to wince in pain as the deep gashes that had let to heal screamed at me. Lung's regeneration was working overtime, this I could tell, to heal me, but my body was just too massive for it to show the world its full splendor.

"hey~!"

I looked around for the source of the call.

"watch it...!"

I stopped and just turned my head around.

There, on my back, was a cape.

"Why are you there, Assault?" I modulated the airflow as I spoke. "I don't remember telling people I gave piggyback rides."

He was so tiny from where I was looking at him, and this made determining his facial expression really hard. With no more conflicting fueling me, my draconic form began to shift, and I too dropped out of cockatrice physiology.

"shit~!" Assault's voice grew louder and louder as I grew smaller and smaller. He jumped off of me before I grew smaller than a three story building, and by the time I was only twice my original height, there was half a dozen capes surrounding me. It was at this point that I began to "reconnect," so to speak, with my clones and duplicates. This was new information for me because from my perspective, the combination of those three powers left me out of control to the point that at least one of my own powers disconnected from me.

"Where's Leviathan?" I grunted. I hadn't seem him nor any of his destruction so far since I gained my lucidity back, and it probably meant that he left the city.

"He left the city for the ocean approximately seven minutes ago," someone noted as I finally reached my regular size.

I frowned as I checked myself out. Ignoring my nudity, I noted that a lot of my biotinkering experiments, including all of the subdermal armors, were gone, either absorbed or destroyed in the transformation. I clicked my tongue, annoyed that I was going to either have to redo all of those experiments or make better versions, because I now knew that I was going to transform with either one of those transformative powers.

"The Triumvirate wants to talk with you," Assault grinned. "Try not to kick their asses again."

I glared at him. "Tell them to come to me, dipshit. I ain't in the mood right now," I grunted. I mentally directed a clone to get me some clothes right fucking now.

One of my free duplicates jumped into an abandoned store and just took a bunch of clothes. I'll have to pay for those later.

"So what's the damage like?" I asked, hoping that someone would answer. All of my duplicates were busy with patients, the base, or delivering clothes to me, so I didn't and hadn't excatly got a good look at the city as a whole. The Protectorate, on the other hand, probably had a general idea, and there were at least four of them around me.

Then I noticed a green streak in the air above which turned sharply down before landing in front of me.

"Yo Legend. Did you think of a way to escape my shadow box yet?" I asked cheekily.

He scoffed. "No. I was hoping that you would agree to join us in a meeting to discuss the aftermath of the Endbringer battle."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you had a bunch of your lackies surrounding me? I mean, don't be stupid boy, I can feel their shadows all around me."

Yes, while I did mentally note that there were only four Protectorate heroes in front of me with a few others, I also didn't mention mentally but knew it nevertheless the four dozen or so heroes still forming a loose circle around me, though they were out of my naked sight.

He sighed. "We really were hoping you come and meet us."

I looked around. "Isn't this against the Endbringer truce?"

"You are an S-class threat yourself," Legend noted. "And Endbringer truce never extended to cover them."

I grinned at him. "Cheeky little bugger, ain't ya?" I asked. "After what I just did-"

"Which is exactly why we insist," he interrupted with a frustrated bark of his own. "Look around you."

And I did.

For at least seven city blocks, there was nothing but rubble, even where there should have been asphalt roads. Everything was either wet or scorched, and there was a lot of dust, presumably where my air manipulation attacks hit the hardest.

I looked back him. "Looks better than Kyushu."

I saw several heroes clench their fists.

Legend narrowed his eyes. "That was out of line."

"Does it look like I care for much?" I asked. "You need me anyways for the battle to come."

Legend seemed like he wanted to say something before he froze. He stared at me, my grin grew wider.

"... Admittedly, your actions -as destructive as they were- were effective," he said, backing off. "Though you caused the second most damage out of any being in this battle, you also allowed for valuable information on Leviathan to be gathered and limited the damage to a certain area of the city. But be warned, we will not allow any kind of destruction on this scale to be allowed out of Endbringer battles."

I nodded. "Glad to be of service," I said. And with that, I walked away. No one stopped me.

My base was flooded. "Goddamn it!"

Dinah was standing next to me, grabbing onto the edge of my jacket with her hands.

"65% chance on average that you will be able to recover the experiments you had going underneath," she noted. "86.5% that you will want to move your base."

"Damn right, I do!" I grunted. "This city pisses me off now. Idiotic villains keep ticking me off, Endbringer comes to fight me, and my base gets ruined with half of the experiments!"

"61.3% chance on average that you will be able to recover the experiments now," she noted, using up the last of her power's questions to piss me off.

I knelt down to her level, and she grinned back at me innocently.

"Young lady, don't make me spank you."

She just grinned and sped off, giggling and laughing as one of my clones chased after her.

I stared back at the entrace to my base.

"...This sucks."

234

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 3, 2018

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Threadmarks 3.7 Unicorns and Psychic What?!

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 4, 2018

#328

The Month of July (with a bit of June)

Unicorn

Despite everything I did in order to ensure that my base wasn't harmed by me not doing anything when Leviathan came around, I still needed to do major fixing.

Due to my base's position in Downtown, an area that was heavily affected by Leviathan's waves; my base had gotten wet. If it wasn't for the giant tunnel leading to Africa, then my base certainly would have been flooded. It wasn't, but that didn't mean there weren't damages. For example, a lot of the concrete walls were weakened as the flood forced the walls to expand from the pressure, and when the water left, the walls sprung back, causing the walls to cave inward.

Returning my base to how Coil built it was untenable, and I didn't want that either. If there was another problem, then I would run into the same problem later on.

No, I was going to do something more dramatic.

Something…

Organic.

Like the xenomorph hive! Ooh, yes! It would be great! It also makes it easy for me to disappear anyone who tries to steal from me.

I mean, the entire thing will basically tell anyone who dares to come nearby that there was death here.

People would leave me alone.

SQUEEEE~!

I stopped and cleared my throat. I patted myself down.

Dinah looked at me with a flat stare.

"You saw nothing."

"Oh no," she said and pulled out a phone. "I caught everything."

I stared at her.

"What do you want?"

"I want my own unicorn."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'll take care of it. I'm sure you have space in your base here to house my Mr. Pebbles."

I got into my "lecture" stance and held out a finger at her. "… Okay, first off, housing and care was not what I meant, and second -"

"87.4% chance that you will do what I ask."

The leather glove I wore squeaked slowly as I curled my finger back in.

"… I'm calling that bluff."

She grinned but didn't say anything. Instead of saying anything, she merely waved the incriminating phone right in front of her.

"… Fine, you win. Now, hand it over."

"Unicorn first."

Turns out, unicorns aren't that hard to make.

Hell, all I had to do was ste- "capture" a "wild" horse, bring it into my lair without having it scream its head off, sedate it with a good punch to its head, and work in peace as I let biokinesis work on making the pony grow a horn.

And like virgins, because that's what unicorn are. Hmm, how to tell if someone is a virgin or not, however.

I'll fix that later.

(End of June)

(Start of July)

Psychic What?

I had the entire term memetic wrong. God fucking damn it, I feel so embarrassed.

... How do I overcome this shame?!

"Please don't-!" some idiot begged before one of my Zergling sicced its scythe-claw through the idiot's chest. "Ar-ag…!" The fucking idiot even had idiotic death rattles.

Then my eyes narrowed as I turned around. I grabbed the idiot by the exposed skin on his leg and healed him.

"W-Why-?" He looked so confused that it was adorable.

Hmm… Adorable?

Shame?

Is it possible for me to erase my past shame by … making something adorable and release to the public?

That is certainly a good idea.

Okay then, what do people consider adorable? I'm not going to be a pleb and make something like a dog. Oh no no no.

So …

Umm…

… What's adorable? I mean, I know that my adorable wasn't anyone else's adorable.

I think zerglings are adorable, but I knew Dinah didn't like anything about them.

So what I didn't find adorable was at least not going to be horrifying to others, right?

So what was not adorable to me?

I made a mistake.

It was a serious one.

I … tried to not let anything escape. Especially the feral ones.

So when I made those things, I realized they didn't look cute, so I just tossed them into one of the brigs I had.

I forgot two things.

One, my base had been more or less flooded and lots of damages existed.

Two, I made them to be smart.

They escaped to the surface.

…

Shhhiiiiittttt…..

PRT Agent Tom Michaels-Kudoku shuddered as he and his partner slowly walked through a non-descript abandoned building in the Docks.

Ever since Leviathan and Rage Dragon the Second decided to have a kaiju battle in the middle of the city, Brockton Bay just wasn't the same as it was before.

Before Leviathan came, Brockton Bay had been a city filled with people. Admittedly, many of them weren't exactly great people. Empire Eighty-Eight alone showed just how bad Brockton Bay was if Neo-Nazis were allowed to operate with impunity on American soil after committing crimes.

But at least then, the city had been that of people's. There were people, good or bad, running about the city as they all do.

Now?

Stories and rumors were abound.

Things that crawled in the dark that weren't entirely people.

And because something like that was in the jurisdiction of the Parahuman Response Team East-Northeast, its agents were sent out to scour for the source of the rumor.

This was how he and his partner, Mary Gunnsmather, slowly made their way through this building.

Reason?

A single photo of something that blended in with the dark with too many fucking eyes.

He shuddered.

The higher ups suspected that there might be a Case-53 involved, but he didn't think so. He knew that the asshole cape was still in town.

No, he did not mean Kaiser or Skidmark or any of their former two's retinue.

No, he was referring to the callous and inhumane Crimson King. The cape who killed Nilbog and Lung.

The cape that made so many monster and unleashed them upon the city without a thought.

Crimson King

(whose name sucked and was edgy enough to fit among teenagers).

Tom knew for sure that this had to be one of CK's escaped experiments in the recent flooding.

Ooohh, what do we have here?

"Who's there?! Show yourself!" he shouted abruptly and whirled around, only meeting Mary's shocked posture.

"Hey hey hey, chill out!" she hissed.

"You didn't hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Dumb humans. I'm going to enjoy eating you.

Tom shuddered.

"That."

He slowly turned around … and only saw the dark corridors that he had been walking through moments prior. He turned back to Mary. "Mary, I don-"

Mary was gone.

After a moment, he let out a sigh.

"Fuck."

Something grabbed him from the back and he disappeared screaming into the dark.

Skidmark tried to close the radio channels, but nothing was working.

"God motherfucking maggot bitten STD riddled dick damn it!" he shouted as the screams on the other side of the radio refused to die down. "Squealer, why can't the radio be turned off?!"

"You wanted it that way, you idiot!" Squealer screeched back at him as she drove the Wrecker XVII away from their latest hideout.

["They're coming out of the vents!" ]

["Shoot it, shoot it!" ]

["Fucking hell, this is some awesome acid!" ]

["THIS IS NOT ACID! THIS IS NOT ACID! THIS IS NOT ACID!" ]

["AAHHH! Don't let them take me to the dark-!"]

[RATATATATATATATA-!]

[RATATATATATATATATA-!]

[SCREECH!]

["AAHHHH!"]

["I was wrong about everything, God! Let me LIVE!"]

["Give us your flesh!" a new and double layered voice hissed from far away.]

"… Well, they're dead," Skidmark muttered as he looked out of the rear window of Squealer's armored truck and saw one of Merchant's hideouts/party house become infested with huge … things.

"I knew those limp-dick cannibalistic insects were always creepy as fuck… but shit," he muttered. "I ain't gonna look at a spider the same way ever again." He turned to Squealer. "Bitch, ya know how much doe and shit we have in this truck?"

"I don't know! Not much!"

Skidmark groaned as the truck lurched. Squealer probably hit something as she tore through the city trying to get away from it all.

Maybe he should get the fuck out of this city. I mean, sure, it's the easiest place to be a villain and just get high all of the time, but staying here wasn't worth fighting those cock-biting shit-smelling spiders.

Telepathic spiders, that is.

"I'm neve' gonna feel good about being near spiders."

"Assault squad, step up!" PRT officer Tyler Jackerson shouted as he fell behind the frontlines. As he stepped behind men and women of the forces, they locked their riot shields together with carbines held out of the holes made for the weapons on the shields themselves.

As the hundreds of dog sized spiders swarmed towards them, they opened fire.

RATATATATA

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT

SCREECH!

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT

RATATATATATA

Gunfire lit up the dimly lit streets in the night. Bullets found purchase within leathery carapace, caving them in, drilling through the carapace and flesh beneath, and exiting in a splatter of gore and shredded metal bits.

RATATATATATATA

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT

SCREECH!

SCREECH!

SCREECH!

Even so, again the approaching horde, mere guns weren't enough.

"Pyros, you're up!" Jackson shouted.

The locked up riot shields opened up, and troops garbed in heavy duty fire protection suits not unlike firefighters stepped up – and they all carried flamethrowers.

They shoved their flamethrowers forward, and fired.

The giant spiders screeched as they died, and the gut churning smell of roasting flesh penetrated through their lines.

Even so, the guns didn't stop firing.

RATATATATATATATA

Jackson knew that Brockton Bay was going to get quarantined.

166

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 4, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.1 Realization of Horrors

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 7, 2018

#337

Realization of Horrors

or How Brockton Bay became Quarantined

-x-x-x-

A threat only remained a threat if the force behind its intent was never used (even if said intent was never aimed at the intended target).

In the case of Crimson King, he was no longer just a threat. He was a persistent danger since he made and unleashed this Nilbog-ish plague upon them.

As Director Emily Piggot watched over the city get run down by the dog sized spiders in the tens of thousands, she had flashbacks to her nightmares at Ellisburg. 'It's happening again,' she thought to herself as she calmly directed the heroes, police, and PRT field agents. They formed a perimeter around a block radius centering the PRT ENE headquarter, where civilians were evacuated to. The spiders weren't able to break through this barrier made up of kevlar, guns, steel, and flesh. They came upon it like a tidal wave and crashed onto it.

Crimson King was a danger, but Emily Piggot knew that killing him was in no way possible.

Why?

Because this man made Lung look like a pussy cat in comparison. This man took on Leviathan and prevented Brockton Bay from sinking.

'But thinking about it, what's worse: a waterlogged city or spider-infested city?' a corner of her mind thought.

Then her heart sped up as she heard the worst news possible.

The helicopters and airplanes that were coming to take the refugees of this new danger were shot down by spiders launching webs into the air. Like a fly caught on a frog's tongue, the helicopters lost control over their own fate and crashed down into the ground, lighting up the night sky with brief explosions and fire.

Fire was everywhere. After realizing that fire did more to dissuade the spiders than bullets did, Armsmaster and Kid Win had done the best they could to produce a tinkerfuel that lit quite readily on fire. The fact that it only needed a pound of any kind of plant to make a pound of that fuel was better, because there was weed everywhere.

"[They're trying to break through Edison Avenue!]" someone shouted. "[There's over a thousand of them rushing through our position!]"

Edison Avenue. Emily quickly looked at the map as did five others in the command room. Edison Avenue was the road that led into the heart of the perimeter. If the spiders broke through there, then the entire place would get flooded with the creepy crawlies from the inside out.

"You hold that line even if all of you die trying!" Emily hissed into the radio. "And someone get Miss Militia over there!"

Miss Militia was a blessing. She always had been with her discipline, experience, and outlook. Now, she was more so because unlike other Pyros (agents outfitted with fuel tanks and nozzle sprays), she had unlimited fuel for her flamethrower.

"[This is Miss Miltia. I am heading over to Edison barricade as soon as possible!]"

It was a goddamn good thing that the spiders couldn't climb too high for whatever reason. If they stuck to a surface that wasn't the ground for too long, then they just kind of slipped off.

"[5th Street Barricade, reporting in. I just saw one of Crimson King's 'zerg' passing by on J Street.]"

J Street was a less than a mile from the 5th Street Barricade. Why would Crimson King release his zergs on top of the spiders? Was this finally his move to take over the city-?

"[This is 3rd Street Barricade. I'm seeing the head of the zerg horde that 5th Street Barricade reported. They're closer. They're on L Street now. I … I think they're moving towards Edison.]"

Emily curled up just a bit as horrifying thoughts rushed into her head.

"ETA on the Triumvirate?"

"Eidolon, 1 minute. Legend, 35 seconds."

She nodded. "Good, good."

"[This is Edison Barricade! The zergs are attacking the spiders!]"

…

Say what?

"Edison Barricade, repeat-"

"[This is Edison Barricade, repeating! The zergs are attacking the spiders!]"

"[New Wave here,]" Lady Photon's radio came through. "[We've been holding Arcadia with the local independents. Spiders are getting flanked by Crimson King's zergs. I repeat, Crimson King's zergs are out in full swarm over the city. I can see them everywhere.]"

Emily was now confused. Why was Crimson King attacking his own spiders?

"Fucking hell," I growled as I used Blood Manipulation to drain all spiders of their blood within a five hundred yard radius of myself. "They only escaped a week ago! How the fuck did they breed so fast without killing half of the city for their biomass?!" I roared.

I was not mad.

No, I was just jealous of their ability to crap out biomass seemingly out of nowhere.

I wanted that.

"I want their goddamn queen dead and on my doorstep!" I shouted and intoned such through the hivemind of the Zerg Swarm.

I watched as the frontlines of my zerg swarm and the spider horde crash, bodies running over and under. Fangs pierced through carapaces. Scythes sliced through limbs and bodies. It was chaos.

"Crimson King!"

I looked up and saw Legend. Great, the annoyance was here again.

"What?!" I growled as I made a spear out of blood and hurled it off. "Can't you fucking see that I'm busy with PEST CONTROL?!" I shouted, now definitely angrily, as a spider dared to kill me. I grabbed it by its face and blasted it. Oh, I wanted to crush it like watermelon but I didn't have any of my Brute upgrades ready. Of all times to lose the upgrades…!

"So you didn't release them?" Legend shouted far above me as he fired off his laser blasts. They burned through the spiders quite easily and sometimes in collateral. A corner of my mind, one so deeply entrenched in gaming culture, played the Team Fortress 2 collateral shot BOOOM!

For a second, I thought about answering honestly, but then realized that they were going to bother the shit out of me if I say something along the lines of 'Sorry~. My security was a little lax and they escaped. Oops. Tee hee.' Thankfully, a spider jumped at me again, giving me a brief moment to use as excuse. I made another spear and skewered the spider through its face. It squealed before going limp. I dropped the spear and the dead spider, ignoring it as some of the zerg sneaked nibbles.

So … lie lie lie-!

"I already had them made, and Leviathan flooded my base. Broke all of the cages," I grunted. "Do you know how fucking pissed I am about that?!" Half-truth, half-lie. Good enough for me. Yes, this half-truth would work better, because I ain't lying about my base getting flooded.

Legend stopped firing.

I looked up. "What the fuck are you doing?! Keep firing!"

He ignored me. "All of the cages broke?! All of your experiments escaped?!"

I blinked.

You know, now that I think about it, I hadn't run into much of my previous experiments, including the psychic imprint monster, ever-evolving chimera, hydra-centipede, a mindwiped human experiment with bastardized version of AT field with an accompanying S2 engine…

Just about the only thing that was intact and still accounted for were the ones that I kept in serious containment like hyper-evolutionary chamber, the more volatile experiments, and the truly SCP-esque horrors that even I was wary of.

"… Most of them?"

Legend paled.

"Hey, to be fair, I was still updating the roster on what I still had! Blame Leviathan!"

Speaking of Leviathan who reminded me of water, the slime monster was also out there. You know, the one I made in a brief moment of sexual frustration…

I paused as everything finally hit home.

"… Oh~."

Legend flew off like the sunlight towards the PRT ENE headquarter, and I didn't blame him.

Within hours, the entire PRT, Protectorate, and military force of Atlantic coast was up and moving towards Brockton Bay.

Their order: quarantine the city at all cost.

197

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 7, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.a U

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 10, 2018

#356

I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

Okay.

What am I?

Who am I?

Where am I?

When I woke up in that underground place, I was surrounded by monsters, and the surface was no different.

I certainly am not a monster. I looked very much like the non-hostile (for most of them) pink things called 'people.'

This place looked degenerate and old. Like a rotting carcass that's been left by itself for too long. Its concrete bones showed wear and tear, and its clear water blood littered everywhere.

Wow, much metaphor.

I shook my head. Focus, focus!

I knew that I needed food to survive (I don't want to eat spiders again if I could help it, and I certainly was not going to eat people). But this place where I was "born" was being walled by the people from outside.

"Mr. U?"

I looked down at my side.

Mr. U was the third name the people who I've rescued began to call me. At least, they called me cape. Then they called me Unknown. Now, it was Mr. U. It was mostly the children who called me Mr. U, though.

I knelt down at Cecily's eye level. "Yes, Cecily?"

"When are we getting more food?" she asked.

I tried not to grimace. "I'll try to get us more food, even if I have to hunt down spiders."

She grimaced.

No one liked spider meat.

U's Group, as everyone called it, was composed of eighteen people. Seven capable men and women, nine children, and two capes. U was the original cape of the group and along the way, Circus, a long time small thief, joined.

"So what are we going to do?" one of the adults asked.

U grimaced. "There's no help coming from the outside that I can see. They're all too busy fighting the spiders."

"So it's spider meat again? What about water?"

"We'll have to filter it through the filters again."

More groans.

It was an ingenious way to filter water on the go. Just stuff a bottle with layers of – from top to bottom – leaves, gravel, course sand, fine sand, and even finer sand, run water through it, and you had clean water. Problem with this method was that the group only had one large plastic bottle to use as filter system, severely limiting the amount of water it could produce.

U nodded to Circus, who sighed but nodded back. He jumped high into the air and was off to the hunt.

Finding a lone spider was harder than it looked like, simply because of the fact that the remnants of the city was so saturated with spiders. He saw pockets of people resisting the spiders, either with the help of capes like himself or by barricading themselves.

U could sense all of their souls. Human souls, that is. He grimaced. On one hand, he had to hunt for meat. On the other, there were people he could sav-.

…

Well, technically speaking, he could do both.

He dove towards the nearest and smallest cluster of people. As he got closer to their place, he saw that they were being attacked by four spiders. He felt the power of his soul activate, and hexagonal transparent orange shield came to life on both of his arms. He crashed down on the ground, and with the same force that brought him down, used it to slice the head off of the lead spider's body.

The people behind him jerked but he was moving already. With lightning quick stabs, his shields struck the spiders and pierced at at the top of their skulls. Just like puppets without strings, the spiders fell and stopped moving.

He stood up and dusted himself. He turned to the people.

"Come with me if you want to live."

They stared at him.

One of them spoke up.

"Dude, sick reference."

"...Huh?"

In which one of Crimson King's experiments becomes a local hero.

140

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 10, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.2 We're -!

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 10, 2018

#357

We're -!

or What Happens When Two Immovables Clash

The city was quarantined with the military manning the walls being built by Protectorate tinkers to keep the spiders in. Civilians were evacuated, but not always in orderly fashion. The spiders would always attack when an evacuation was in progress. Machineguns, not like the rifles but the actually heavy weaponry that the infantry can carry, were fired hour after hour as civilians ran between the lines of military and heroes protecting them.

On the other side of the city, the spiders were being killed by the thousands every hour by the unrelenting Zerg Swarm. Had the swarm been even twice its current size, then this operation would have been over hours ago, but the Overmind's order was clear: stick to the current forcelimit. Thus, they were forced to get creative in place of their usual rush; the Zerg Swarm opted for higher quality. Zerglings evolved to better take hits. Hydralisks gained better rang and penetration. Mutalisks, what few there were, evolved their spikes to bounce more and deliver fatal doses of poisons to go with it. It was because of this that the Zerg Swarm in Brockton Bay looked vastly different than the rest of the swarm hiding underground. The zerglings were brutishly tough-looking, hydralisks looked longer from the side and thicker tail to balance their ever growing spikes, and mutalisks grew poison sacs bulging from the side of their mouths.

While all of this war of extermination was happening, another war was being waged in a conference room.

"So you want to have more oversight over what I do."

The Triumvirate glared at me.

"No, we're demanding oversight."

I leaned back. "You realize that what happened would not have happened if Leviathan didn't hit this city, right?" I asked back. "I gave your investigators the tour of my entire goddamn base. You know how much damage the flooding has caused it."

"Yes," Alexandria began. "But if you hadn't created the spiders in the first place, we wouldn't have a thousand people dead right now."

"You mean one thousand three hundred seven."

"My point stands, King," she replied sternly. "Allow us to place an overseer within your base. The overseer will be allowed to – by you – to veto experiments that he or she deems too unethical or dangerous.

I narrowed my eyes.

"You … intend to limit my experiments?" I asked them very slowly. Now, up to this point, I had been thinking that they might demand that I give them full access to my entire base. I would have been fine with that, though I would have also told them that whatever death happens in my base would be on their head. I did not expect them to come out and say that they intended to neuter my creativity.

You … just don't do that. I fucking left the entire place alone even before Leviathan. I only came out when the rest of the world bothered me.

And they were going to push all the blame on me and neuter my creativity?

They tensed, and no doubt, the rest of the Protectorate and the military tense, because outside of this conference room, the city was divided into two sides: east occupied by my Zerg Swarm and west occupied by the military, PRT, and the Protectorate. Both sides were trying their damnedest best to root out the last of the spiders, but they dragged me in here to "have a chat."

"And if I say no?" I asked them.

Alexandria narrowed her eyes. "Then we will be forced to declare you a villain, and although the Congress, the president, and the Board of Directors of the PRT are very hesitant, they are willing to declare a Kill Order."

… Wow. Did that puny spider invasion get them off their rockers that much?

I narrowed my eyes.

So I had a choice to make here. "You intend to put a leash on me?" I asked.

Alexandria lost her cool. "This is not about your goddamn experiments!" she shouted. "This is about you and your things killing people!"

I barked out a laugh. "Like the villains haven't been already?!" I shouted right back.

Legend leaned away and Eidolon seemed to vibrate.

"You are too callous about the lives of the people lost!"

"You value them too much!"

"You are on American soil, Crimson King. American soil. As long as you stay here on America, you follow American laws or we will put you down!"

"Oh, and how is that enforcement of the law coming along everywhere else? This very city happened to be riddled with villains. Oh right, where did they go? I FUCKING TOOK CARE OF THEM!"

"This is not up for negotiation, King!"

We glared at each other.

"One sentence," I hissed. "That's all I need to ruin you and your organization, Rebecca."

Eidolon stopped vibrating and Legend froze.

"Two sentence," I added. "Is all I need to get all of the Case-53's up in arms to hunt you down."

Alexandria stared at me.

"And three sentence is all I need," I stretched out my last threat. "To end this world."

"You… would side with him?" she growled, fully aware of the last method that I hinted at in my threats.

I laughed. "Side? No. I'll just fucking leave," I replied. "You think you're oh so special. You forgot that you, this Earth Bet, and other Earths like it are merely trapped within its palm. There are many, many more Earths out there that I can simply hop over to, given enough time. Or if that bothers me too much, I can just leave the solar system entirely."

Alexandria paused for a second before smirking. "So you're a coward, then?"

I frowned. "What?"

"You call yourself a king, but you would abandon this Earth at the hint of a threat you can't manage on your own?"

"Like this world matters to me."

"Even little Dinah?"

I saw red.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Kid Win asked Clockblocker.

"Hell if I know," Clockblocker replied. "An orgy, maybe?"

Kid Win choked on his spit.

Vista punched Clockblocker at the back of his head.

"Ow!" Dennis whined.

Aegis scoffed. "You deserved it."

"B-But that's just the perfect material! I had to say it!"

"Really? An orgy?" Shadow Stalker scoffed. "Crimson King isn't interested in anything like that. Besides, the bastard stole Nilbog's power. He can make himself a woman if he wants to. You're dumb as a sack of bricks."

Clockblocker just stuck his tongue out at her.

"And you got no friends."

She glared at him.

He glared right back, although that was hard to see with his helmet.

Kid Win sighed.

Ever since the Endbringer battle, everyone had loosen up a bit. It also helped that everyone also got to kill bunch of spiders, which helped to relieve stress. Shadow Stalker, in particular, liked that exercise. It was just something about bringing down literal hordes of giant monsters, climbing on top of that carcass mountain while still shooting more.

If he had to put a phrase to it, then he had fulfilled a medieval fantasy hero's dream of slaying monsters by the dozens to protect the young, old, and the weak.

He nodded to himself. When he looked up after his introspection, he saw Vista looking at him. He blushed and chuckled nervously.

Then they came out of the conference room. The Triumvirate and Crimson King came out, and the mood was … not good. They were glaring at each other.

Abruptly, Crimson King turned to look at the people around, waiting for the verdict. "I am declaring all of you here as my witness," he growled out. He glared at them all before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I, Crimson King, declare that I will leave American soil."

Chris felt his jaw drop.

"In exchange, the Protectorate – with the agreement of Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown – has agreed to take no action against me or mine for past grievances."

Chris felt the world shift and then he fainted.

For United States of America, Crimson King's departure was met with mixed responses. Citizens who were largely unaware of Crimson King's antics lamented the fact that the Goblin Slayer – as well as the man who slew heck load of villains – was leaving America because of politics. Because some people didn't like him and his methods. Those who knew more in-depth about Crimson King, especially those aware of his experimentation and how some of those experiments drove their people insane, was only too glad and openly so. Unfortunately, this would cause a bit of a scandal with Director Piggot, who was recorded in public to have stated so.

However, this part of the story is not about Piggot, America, or any of its heroes.

This was about Africa and its responses to Crimson King's arrival.

On that note, Guineans, the first ethnic group that met Crimson King, had another name for the eccentric cape.

Swarmlord.

I had researched early on about Africa.

Why?

Because I knew that something like my current "exile" was bound to happen, either by choice or force. Because of this, I knew that I was going to have to land somewhere and grow my base of power without causing too much damage to the geopolitical landscape of Africa.

...

By the way, that's a joke. The whole bit about me going out of my way to research how best to limit my effects. I didn't give a fucking shit. The only thing I cared about was where I could fuck over with the least amount of international nagging.

Yes, I do seriously mean nagging because international organizations like United Nations had no power whatsoever right now.

For that reason… I chose Sierra Leone.

Otherwise known on Earth Bet as "Simurgh Cult Africa." Like seriously, the cultists there developed their own goddamn religion. Not a puny Endbringer cult like those that existed in America. I mean a full-on state religion, or as close to the anarchistic nature of what was once Sierra Leone would allow. For me, this was just grand for me.

I mean…

No one was going to care, especially not about a Simurgh cult-religion.

Yeah.

So …

I kind of …

Let my zergs loose?

The ground trembled as the largest of their swarm broke through the surface, and unleashed a mighty roar for all of Africa to hear.

She looked to their Father-Overmind, and he looked back at her. She bowed and lowered herself humbly in the presence of one as powerful as he. She hoped to become like him one day: powerful, confident, and peerless. For now, that meant outdoing her brothers and sisters in this invasion of foreign land.

Father-Overmind nodded to her, giving her the command of the troops. It was what he created her for. She nodded back and then turned to the Swarm in front of her. Her psionic mind reached out and commanded her lesser breathren. They followed through the hole where her eldest brother broke through to the surface. She followed them out on her sextuple legs from the darkness into the light.

She squinted and shook as when the sunlight warmed her carapace and the humidity hit the few sensitive joints and her sensory buds.

"So..." she muttered to herself as her dual-layered voice shook with excitement. "This is Africa. Our first conquest."

Her father didn't say anything immediately, although he did look at her funny. He looked out of the hole her eldest brother made, staring down from the hills their swarm was pouring out of from where he was on the edge of the hole. She followered his gaze and few the lush green jungles of this area. She approved of the location Father-Overmind chose. It was a good place to start harvesting biomass. She sent out her lesser breathren Father-Overmind called "drones," which were specialized in harvesting resources of all kinds.

"Enemy comes," he noted.

She looked up and accessed the minds of her breathrens on the frontline.

She watched through the eyes of a zergling as it was met with resistant by a local. Guinean, Father-Overmind supplied their classification. Very funny name. It wasn't as elegant like her name, Cynellivere, or as powerful as her eldest brother's name, Ronolgda. The zergling stared at the Guinean, Father-Overmind called the human a "farmer" from the external equipment it carried, and hissed. The "farmer" yelped and ran away. What didn't run away was the other human who had been standing there next to the farmer. Father-Overmind called this human a "cultist" and told her that they were very likely to be hostile to the Swarm.

And just like father said, the "cultist" pulled out a dagger, shouted, and jumped at the zergling. The zergling leapt back, causing the cultist to miss his attack, and then cut him down with slices from its scythe arms. The cultist collapsed and gurgled.

"This is the caliber of the enemy, Father-Overmind?" she asked.

"Of their lowest rank without proper range weapon, yes," he replied.

"Then this conquest will be as your species say, Father-Overmind ... 'ez-pz.'"

"... Who taught you that?"

Cynellivere raised one of her many of her eyes. She didn't have "eyebrows" like Father-Overmind, so raising her eye was the best she could do to mimic that "eyebrow raising" gesture. Such a funny gesture humans make with their facial muscles and hair.

"My psionic reach is half the distance of my eyesight, Father-Overmind. You remember this, no?"

He nodded.

"While I liked our underground hive, it was awfully boring. I ... may have spied on the humans in the city of Brockton Bay."

He snorted. "Was it interesting?"

"... Humans like to use their reproductive organs. A lot. They also make irrational decisions based on those organs."

Father-Overmind collapsed on the spot and began to laugh.

Cynellivere sighed even as half of her brain/mind/psionic kept the command of the Swarm in this new land. Father-Overmind was weird, even by human standards. Ignoring her Father-Overmind for a moment, she looked back at the Swarm she commanded. Compared to her Father-Overmind's total swarm, it was a meager number, barely hitting ten thousand. However, Father-Overmind only wanted her to take over a small portion of this human settled region by herself.

She reached forward with her six arms.

"Conquer this region … in the name of the Overmind!"

The zergs below screeched and roared.

"Oh, Cynellivere."

She turned to her father.

"I expect the entire country under my thumb in two months. That should be enough time for you, right?"

(If the image doesn't show, just go to HERE)

188

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 13, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.3a Different Perspective from Sierra Leone

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 16, 2018

#411

From the perspective of Ainose Kankato, the first to swear fealty.

Ainose Kankato

He was an honest man. Born to a family of nine as its eldest son, he took on his father's job of working the family's farm. Thanks to his family's farm being located in the mountains where the people of the plains – who squabbled uselessly over politics – could not easily reach them, he was able to keep his family safe. He married young at the age of 16 to a girl his father set up the marriage with from the plains.

For the first three decades of his life, everything was happy and grand. Happy and grand as anything Africa could give him, at any rate. Despite his rural upbringing, Ainose was a knowledgeable man. His father had been a French officer decades prior, and knew the power of knowledge and education. Because of this, he took to educating Ainose and his siblings to the best of his abilities. By the time his education under his father was complete, Ainose was competent in French, English, mathematics, geography, and economics.

It was because of this education that he was chosen by the local village as their chief and mayor.

Then she came.

His Muslim neighbors called her the Winged Djin.

His Christian neighbors called her the Fallen Angel.

Either way, the description was apt. He listened through rumors and actual news the aftermath of her visit. About how the people of the plains and jungles went mad from the whispers of the demon. How they turned on each other. How they began to worship the demon.

That last fact was what turned his neighbors into a frenzy.

A jihad was upon them, the Muslim argued. Whether they wanted to or not, the demon worshipers were going to come to them to slaughter and force conversion away from the grace of Allah.

The Christians agreed with the Muslims.

They would protect their homes, whatever the cost.

Not long after, militarymen from Liberia, their neighboring state, came by. He saw the state of his village and saw that they were not the demon worshipers. Instead of evacuating them, he looked and saw the burning determination of the men and women. He told his troops to drop off the extra guns and ammunition for them.

Ainose made sure to thank the militaryman, who the others called "major."

For the next decade, he and his people fought desperately – and successfully – against the demon worshipers in the west, north, and south. With the help of the Liberia who wanted no demon worshipers in their land, they were supplied with food and weapons.

When trauma came and went, their own people rose up with greater power, a blessing of Allah, and used their might to fight against the demon worshipers.

New rumors were on the rise. Civilians fleeing from the north told him of monsters that hunted down the demon worshipers. Of how the converted mosques, now dedicated to the demon, were torn down by the monsters.

They told of monsters with sharp teeth and fangs. Of flying monsters whose speed and grace made mockery of the most graceful birds of prey. Dog-like things that devoured human flesh but only those that attacked them.

In these monsters, Ainose Kankato saw allies against the demon worshipers. He, as the representative of his people, took up a diplomatic mission. With only three guards, he took the fastest car and left. What he saw dumbfounded him.

The jungles of the northwest had been converted into purple biome that he did not recognize from any of his father's books. The monsters were wary of him, but when he put his hands up and spoke to them in honest tones about how he came to meet the leader of the monsters, they led him to the center of their world. There, in front of a giant fleshy and carapaced structure, he met a monster.

He saw a monster, a beautiful monster, who took on a woman's appearance, but it was not human. It spoke with two voices, had mantis like abdomen, and legs too numerous. She was exotic.

The monster spoke of how it was her duty to conquer this land in the name of her creator, but also stated that her creator wanted to keep people happy and healthy for only then can they be of use to him. The monster extended a hand of vassalage to him under her creator.

Ainose knew what he saw. Before meeting this monster, he had seen hundreds of thousands of monsters marching to war. Some were just as dog-like as the rumors said. But there were others that towered over buildings. The skies were blanketed with the endless flock of monsters.

Yet this monster offered him peace when it could have easily killed his people.

He was no stupid man. He saw potential of his people's destruction right then.

So he did the only thing he could.

He demanded to meet the creator so that he may pledge he and his people's allegiance in person. His wish was granted. Almost as soon as he had demanded so, the monster obliged and stepped aside, revealing an entrance into the structure he had not seen because of her.

And from it, a person that he could only describe as "Lord of Monsters" emerged. Clad in armor of flowing blood, the armored man scared Ainose.

He stood there in front of the monster, and Ainose quickly realized what was expected. He knelt down on one knee, and his three guards hesitantly followed.

Right there and then, he swore vassalage to the Lord of Monsters.

And the Lord of Monsters accepted his vassalage and promised him protection and prosperity.

When he returned home, it was to the applause of people hearing the good news. The demon worshipers they had been fighting for the last decade were being wiped out from the face of the world. A new lord, hopefully benevolent, had sworn them his protection.

Ainose was hailed as the leader, and the by votes of the very people he had led to this point, they raised him up as their hereditary lord, for they recognized that he had his the people just as his father before him had educated them and his grandfather before him had kept the community together under the colonial occupation. They trusted him and his family.

Ainose never felt prouder of himself and his family than that moment.

He, a mere farmer before all this, had become a lord.

217

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 16, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.4 How Do You Deal with Humans?

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 18, 2018

#428

With the complete conquest of Sierra Leone and the destruction of the previous pseudo-government that was the Endbringer-Cult-turned-state-religion, I had become the ruler of Sierra Leone.

The first signs of trouble not came from the battlefield but the political stage. Now that I looked back on it, it was inevitable.

Specifically, because of my wanton acceptance of those seeking protection and acceptance of fealty. The thing about fealty in this sense was that it was a medieval contract. I protect them, and they provide me with what I desire … within limits. In essence, I was starting to enable a feudal system to rise up from the ashes of African anarchy.

Now, these new feudal lords were vying for power within the structure and safety I had provided for them. Already, two headaches were on the rise.

Chu'obuta was the parahuman leader of the last remnant of what could be the legitimate Sierra Leone government before the state went into anarchy. Thankfully, the man didn't have any Simurgh brainwashing done inside his head, but because of what he sought, perhaps Simurgh didn't need to. Chu'obuta, I learned, wanted to become his own warlord. The only reason he had been incapable of doing so was because he was stuck inside a nation where most of the parahumans within said state was part of an Endbringer Cult and very keen on dying for the glory of their goddess. Now that the Endbringer cult was gone, he was exerting his influence over the other survivors across Sierra Leone.

The other headache was Michael Doagutam, a half-Irish African who led the one of three successful surviving "city-states" within Sierra Leone. Out of all of my new vassals, he had the widest and deepest support. And he was also corrupt as fuck.

There were silver linings to this situation I found myself in, however. One of them was Ainose Kankato. The leader of a confederation of villages in mountainous eastern fringes of Sierra Leone, he was not a parahuman, not corrupt, and not seeking to extend his influence. On the contrary, he was very supportive of what I was doing and ensured that his people did not piss off the zergs for no reason.

The same could not be said for either Chu'obu or Doagutam. The less I said about their attempts to incite their people against me, the better. The only reason their efforts weren't quite working was because of the fact that I was providing both of their peoples with food that they had been lacking for so long and the protection I promised.

Why, just the other day, bandits led by four supers got their ass impaled by my zerglings! Doagutam lost a lot of influence after that because he still spoke out against me.

And then there were the other two nations bordering my new territory: Guinea and Liberia.

Liberia was no different from Sierra Leone: infested with Endbringer cultists. They were in no condition to do or say anything. They were actually my next target in my conquest for West Africa.

Guinea, on the other hand, had been holding the cultists back by themselves. They were wary of me. And they were right to be.

I realized that Cynellivere was not a mediator or a politician of any sort. She was a commander through and through. I also did not want to make another specialized zerg just to deal with people, and left with no other choice… I called a meeting of my vassals.

The meeting was to take place in Makeni, the new capital of my kingdom.

Hmm… yes, I like the sound of that. My kingdom.

Now, how was I going to control the troublemakers?

I was not going to allow them any sort of military control outside of police power, and even then, I was going to have the full power of the court.

… What? Did yall think I was just going about this on a willy nilly?

… You did, didn't you? I did say that I did my research before coming here. I didn't want an entire continent just filled to the brim with zergs and any other creations I may make. That would not be fun nor productive. I needed people to enjoy the fruits of my labor, you know?

No, I wanted a place where humans could thrive, albeit with restrictions.

My restrictions. My laws. My kingdom.

And these vassals of mine were going to be my biggest problem and solution to ensure that my words became the words everyone abide by.

There will be a lot of headaches in the conferences to come. Perhaps, to cow the unwilling, I may have to show a sign of strength. To show them all that I was not something they could fight…

Should I breed paranoia among my dissenters' midst?

Fabricate evidence to use to kill the most annoying of troublemakers?

Allow "human" assassins to kill some leaders because of political disagreements, and have my zergs do the people "justice"?

Parahumans were still common, despite Cynellivere cutting down their population by at least a third because "they were filthy and ungrateful scum" etc etc etc from her perspective. That may have to do with the fact that one of the Endbringer cultist I allowed mercy to tried to kill me. I knew full well that he was going to try. That was the point. From Cynellivere's perspective, though, the parahuman broke my mercy and did what any loyal zerg would do.

Kill the shit out of 'em.

It probably also colored her impression of what parahumans were, because it was after that little event that any parahumans who didn't surrender were mercilessly slaughtered by Cynellivere's brood.

On that note, Cynellivere had been doing really well with her assigned brood that I was tempted to just give her control of said brood and let them expand northwestward as they pleased. Less I have to micromanage, the better it was for me.

Seriously though, what should I do to the troublemakers, hmm?

179

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 18, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.4a New York Times - August 5, 2011

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Oct 20, 2018

#439

What do you think about Crimson King?

By Cindy Hughes

Goblin Slayer.

Swarmlord.

Crimson King.

Such are the names given to him by the people who lives he affected, and what changes he wrought upon this world. He slew North America's resident S-class threat, Nilbog the Goblin King. He cleared the city of Brockton Bay of many of its criminal elements, including Lung, the only cape to fight Leviathan by himself for extended period of time. Then he left North America, seemingly in exile, and liberated Sierra Leone from its Endbringer cultists. In the process, he united the survivors of the maddened nation.

However, do not mistake his positive effects as one with benevolent origin. Crimson King started his public cape career with the death of the Nilbog, but in the same instance, engaged the Triumvirate in a three versus one fight, in which he easily defeated the legendary leaders of the Protectorate. Neither happened because of Crimson King's benevolence but rather his annoyance. He killed Nilbog because he considered the man to be an annoyance – a pest, in his own words – and then subjugated the Triumvirate in battle because he was once more annoyed by their constant insistent on sticking to the law. While I would not have personally spoken such on behalf of Nilbog, a cape who had killed thousands in his debut, it speaks volumes of the Triumvirates' integrity as heroes.

Shortly afterward, Crimson King settled in Brockton Bay, a city known for its two largest gangs: the Empire Eighty-Eight, a white supremacist Neo-Nazi organization once led by Kaiser, and Azn Bad Boyz, a pan-Asian gang once led by Lung, the same Lung that fought Leviathan until Kyushu sunk.

I say "once led" to both Kaiser and Lung's statuses as leaders of the two gangs because both were either eliminated or killed from their positions of power.

Kaiser was killed shortly following Crimson King's departure from the city.

Lung … his power was stolen from him by Crimson King himself.

That's right.

Crimson King was a Glastig Uaine. Another Fairy Queen, and it was even in his name.

A Trump 12.

And it was with combination of powers, which included Lung's, that Crimson King became what has been nicknamed "Dragon King." In this form, he took on Leviathan and … lost. But because he pushed Leviathan so much and so far that it has been revealed to all of us that Endbringers … had been holding back. The battle between Leviathan and Crimson King has eclipsed Lung's debut battle. It is all over the internet, and it honestly scares many people.

The very opening move of the battle sent a shockwave through the city and beyond at an intensity that could be considered an earthquake. Entire section of the city was leveled, although this may have been better than having the entire city sunken.

According to PRT ENE, he only fought Leviathan because he was told that he was Leviathan's target.

Though Crimson King lost that battle, he has recovered and conquered Sierra Leone by proxy.

That's right, proxy.

According to eyewitnesses which includes diplomats from Guinea, Portugal, and Spain, Crimson King has not moved from northern Sierra Leone. In his stead, one of his "zerg" took command of its siblings and waged a two month long war, during which the Endbringer cultists were driven out or killed to the last defender, wherever they chose to make their last stand. While this was happening, Crimson King has been experimenting, an activity he was well known for in Brockton Bay. It was through his experimentation that he developed his main military force, the "zergs."

From what can be seen, Crimson King has become what he is today not through determination to do right or wrong but to simply keep to himself.

Eidolon, the "Soul King" if we take his cape name and his status to the extreme, stands with the law and order.

Glasting Uaine, nicknamed "Fairy Queen," remains in Birdcage, and from what few leaks we have, apparently operates a small corner of Birdcage as her fief.

And then there is the last Trump 12, Crimson King. He stands now to conquer West Africa, if the constant expansion of his zergs do not stop, and there really isn't anyone in West Africa capable of stopping him – in part due to West Africa's lack of organization, famine, civil war, and parahuman rivalries all around.

So what do you think about Crimson King? Do you believe that he is a hero? Is he a villain? Or he is an eccentric who does not follow the social norm of the capes?

190

Akallas von Aerok

Oct 20, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.5 - From the Perspective of the Inferior

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Nov 22, 2018

#474

Ainose Kankato

He was surprised to receive a message from the Lord of Monsters so soon; it had only been a few days since he had returned to his home. Despite wanting to rest from the journey and desiring to celebrate the end to the decade long siege they suffered from the demon worshipers, Ainose rose up from his bed to obey.

It would not do him or his people much good to disobey such a simple order so early on in their relationship with their new heimbe. He left his house thinking that he would have to go see the driver again, only to be met with a panicking woman.

He knew her as the second wife of the farmer who served valiantly until his natural death only a few years ago.

"What is it?" he asked.

"T-There are monsters waiting outside of the gates, ndemo!" the woman whimpered. "Gakati went to alert the guards, but the monsters are not attacking yet."

He narrowed his eyes. "Do they have a lot of teeth?"

She blinked and then nodded. "Yes, ndemo, how did you know?" she asked, amazed.

"They are our new heimbe's monsters. They are friendly. Show me where they are."

She stuttered for a second before nodding and quickly walking towards the west gate.

Boria was once a small mountain village close to the Guinea border. Everyone here used to farm for their own food, and often times, there were rare games they hunted down. That wasn't to say that Boria hadn't had contact with the outside and its commerce.

However, when the attacks upon their people came, the other villages from nearby came to Boria, and together, they built a walled city from the lumber provided by the forests around them.

Ainose noted all of this as he was joined by one of Allah's blessed women, Jochiga. A member of the Mende people from the south who had fled to north to reach their city, she had gained a blessing in the high stress environment that was their lives. She gained the ability to harden substances, and used her power to make the walls of their city nigh impregnable from normal weapons.

"Ndemo Ainose, what should we do?" she asked him as more warriors of the village joined him. He quickly climbed the stairs to the battlement and saw the monsters sitting comfortably outside the city walls within the valley.

"Open the gates!" he shouted to the men below. "Our heimbe's forces are here!"

Everyone looked at him in confusion before hastily complying. They had heard that their new lord was a lord of monsters, but to see those monsters first hand had been jarring to the point that they had momentarily forgot about it.

As the gates opened, a small group of monsters separated from the rest. There were three large armed snakes with large crests and a single human-like monster with many arms and hands.

They entered the village, and Ainose quickly got down to greet them.

"Boria welcome you, sir," he spoke with a small bow.

The many armed creature bowed back similarly.

"The Swarm appreciates the greeting of Father-Overmind's new vassals," the monster said. "I am Rok. I am to serve as the protector of your people. I have come today to tell you that I shall be setting up my base upon the mountaintop to your west."

"I … see," he replied. "Will you need supplies from us?" he asked politely.

Supplies were ever low in their village. Farming was made hard by the constant raids, and fishing was also hard because there were too many people that needed to be fed. Many children and non-fighters went out every day to gather wild crops just so that everyone had something to ear.

If they demanded supplies…

"No," Rok replied. "We, the Zerg, do not need sustenance like you humans. We will provide for ourselves."

He nodded. "Does that mean that you will be hunting for food?"

Rok tilted its head. "No. We do not need to hunt."

"… I see."

He really didn't.

He understood two weeks later when too-adventurous children snuck to the "zerg" outpost and brought back a souvenir.

A purple goo.

Everyone surrounded the thing. Poked the thing.

And then one of them, despite protests, ate a portion of the thing.

"Tastes kinda like rotten meat," Taliyan, the idiot who ate the goo, muttered.

Idiot.

A skirmish broke out between foragers and remnants of the demon worshipers.

Within minutes of fighting, the zerg were there in the hundreds, swarming over the demon worshipers within seconds.

Hearing about how the demon worshipers were overrun by the zergs, Ainose felt assured in the fact that he had given his fealty to the right person(?).

Three months into his new lot in life, he was called up by heimbe. Unlike last time which was a notification of a new outpost being set up near his village, this was a call to a conference for all human vassals of the heimbe.

He rode out in the fastest car his village had to the city he had been told to gather at. With him was his best friend and closest advisor, Tu Makunda.

"Friend Kankato, what do you think the heimbe wants from us?" Tu asked him without looking away from the barely paved roads of Sierra Leone. "I am worried, my friend."

For a moment, Ainose didn't reply to his friend's plea. And it was a plea.

A new roi, as the French would say, had come and has taken over Sierra Leone. While he was grateful that the new heimbe, "king" in the Mende language, was protective and supportive of the people thus far, if

Ainose knew one thing, then it was that things change; was the new heimbe not a change himself, though benevolent?

Ainose feared what this conference of vassals would result in, and that was because his colleagues weren't exactly the best of people.

The few times he'd met them, they were rude, ambitious, and slightly insane. Not as insane as the cultists, but there was insanity in suggesting to him – the first to kneel – that they should overthrow this new heimbe and create a republic for themselves.

Were Doagutam and Chu'obuta not there when their republic fell to the cultists? Do they not see the strength of the Lord of Monsters in conquering Sierra Leone so fast? Already, he heard rumors of his heimbe's "zergs" moving into Liberia, Sierra Leone's neighbor who had also been taken over by its Endbringer cultists, as well as Guinea, the mighty nation that had resisted the advances of the demon worshippers so well.

He did not like the fact that their heimbe would attack a good nation like Guinea, but he was the vassal; it was his position in life to see it happen, not decide things.

They arrived at the location of where the conference of vassals was to take place. It was a town not too far from the heimbe's new capital, but he had been told by the zergs that he was to talk in the capital. So he expressed his confusion. Why was he and his advisor led to this town of Maghandani?

The representative of the zergs positioned in the town was quick to answer.

Maghandani was to become the political capital of the heimbe's new dominion. It would be where the vassals of the heimbe would gather to talk.

So Ainose waited as other representatives trickled… including Doagutam and Chu'obuta.

"Chu'obuta."

"Doagutam."

The two greeted each other cordially on the surface.

But everyone around them backed away because they knew that there was nothing friendly about the exchange about to happen.

Ainose, just like everyone, steered clear yet kept on eye on the two's confrontation. They were like rival lions, only kept in check by the fact that there was an even greater predator who would not tolerate anything beyond an exchange of words. And it would only be an exchange of words, just that it would be of the vilest kind.

"I heard that lost another family to the demon worshippers," Chu'obuta opened fire. "Doesn't that make this the seventh family you lost? You are pathetic."

"At least I don't neglect my own people," Doagutam retorted venomously. "Oh, also, I'm not senile or delusional."

Chu'obuta glared, his dark ginger hair casting a shadow over his face as he tilted his head forward.

"You watch your mouth, kpiikpuula," Chu'obuta warned with the hardness of a veteran. "If it wasn't for the lord of monsters, you would be buried alive."

"You and what army?" Doagutam goaded. "Wasn't it just three months ago that you were screaming to Allah in thanks for having four parahuman soldiers while I had the support of fifteen?"

The parahuman vassal's nose flared. "Yes, I have four. Five if you count me. But I haven't lost over half of his territory to the demon worshippers!"

Ainose flinched as Doagutam narrowed his eyes. Ainose knew that the loss of territory and people was a sore spot for the populist (if corrupt) leader.

"Friends," he interrupted the conversation. The two didn't even look at him, and when they did, they dismissed him. Ainose had expected this, because in the eyes of these two powerful men, he was a rural idiot… except he wasn't. "Let us not fight amongst each other like the Nazi's did during the second great war. It only makes us weaker."

Doagutam, the more learned of the two, turned to him, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

But it was a mistake. The militant Chu'obuta took it as an insult - that he was not worth the attention.

"Don't you look away from me, hite-lo!"

That brought back Doagutam's attention, but he was stopped from retorting by the appearance of a zerg. Tall, curvy, and thin, it was a feminine figure comparable to the "Cynellivere" zerg leader that he first met. There was a significant difference, however. Unlike the true zerg leader, this zerg looked far more human. She wore clothes like people, dressing herself in abaya but without the hijab. The difference that made her stand out as a zerg was the fact that blood vessels on either side of her cheeks were glowing purple and her visible hand was as big as her body and with fingers that could serve more properly as scythes than tools of war.

She smiled.

"Father-Overmind awaits."

And she walked away. Ainose noted that no one wanted to fight after that.

That and the fact that everyone was staring after her in ill-hidden lust.

Maybe it had to do with the way she was swaying her hips.

Ainose certainly wasn't looking. He wasn't even interested in her beyond the fact that she seemed to be a human-zerg hybrid or a human possessed by zerg.

He was too focused on the same clawed hands that looked a bit too much like the scythe-arms of the "zerglings."

Crimson King

Despite what it looked like from the outside perspective, my zergs were not resting to rebuild its ranks.

In fact, during the entire campaign across Sierra Leone, I never really lost that many zergs because by the time one unit died, two would be born, and this was even more true by the end of the campaign.

At the start of the campaign, there were seven hatcheries. By the end of the campaign, I had some two hundred sprinkling all of northern Sierra Leone, all of which produced a unit every three minutes. In each of the battles, my zergs may have died by the dozens at the least and thousands at most, but they were all replaced and even upgraded by the time the next battle came.

Oh, what's that? The local parahumans are very used to starting fire? Time to make zergs fire-resistant or even better, fire-retardent!

Gee, many of the capes here are Masters? Let's see how they like to be connected to the hivemind of the ENTIRE zerg swarm with a boosted telepathetic field generated by my Queens.

Blasters bombarding using guerilla tactics? There are these things called numbers and carpet bombing.

And if any of these parahumans survived and were brought up to me for more experimentation and power removal, then that was good too.

If they were torn to bits before I could take their powers, then that was good too.

I digressed. My zergs weren't resting to rebuild strength; they were growing beyond the original size of swarm that I invaded Sierra Leone with. Exactly how many were there in the beginning?

26,500 zerglings, 3,890 hydralisks, 419 lurkers, 93 ultralisks, 2,300 mutalisks, 98 overlords, 5,900 drones, 3 small nydus worms, and 1 really big nydus worm, aka Ronolgda.

How many did I have now?

1,985,000 zerglings, 54,900 hydralisks, 1,000ish lurkers, 200 ultralisks, 18,000 mutalisks, 476 overlords, 71,400 drones, 180 queens, 81,000 banelings, 323,000 roaches, 21 small nydus worms, and 1 Ronolgda, whose body was big and thick enough to still carry half of this new force by himself.

He was my big eldest son.

Yeah, anyway. As to why no one found out? While the number of my zerg on the surface grew slowly but within prediction of many Thinkers around the world, the rest of my zergs were underground and waiting for my order.

And order did I give for the subjugation of Liberia and Guinea.

Liberia was contaminated by too many Simurgh jerkers, so I just had half a million zerglings rush the place with a hundred thousand roach support. Guinea was more organized, though, and had survived its warring neighbors so far. They would need a more strategic and tactical mind to remove them, and so I sent Cynellivere towards them.

... Ah, my new vassals were finally entering the conference room. Good good. Let's get this show on the road then, hmm?

Cynellivere, the Commanding Daughter

Cynellivere was at the head of the Guinean subjugating expedition, as her father liked to call her swarm. She didn't understand why father liked to tack on weird names and titles to the forces and humans he led. He called the humans underneath his rule "the West African Protectorate" and the tiny portion of the swarm dedicated to policing his rule as "Police Dogs."

These dogs that father showed her looked nothing like the zerglings and roaches that made up most of the "Police Dogs." Sometimes, it felt like father was being sarcastic about everything that it hurt her mind trying to understand his references and words.

Thankfully, she got to get away from father a little today because he gave her the command of the "Guinean Subjugating Expedition Swarm of Cynellivere."

Urgh, long titles.

She just called the swarm her swarm, because it was easier that way.

His command had been simple: kill anyone who resisted, accept the surrender of the locals if they give it, and annex the region occupied by the dying nation of Guinea.

So here she was, marching upon the northwestern border between the new West African Protectorate and Guinea on what the locals called the "N4 Highway."

One of the Queens rode up to her being bowing even as they marched forward.

"My lady, the enemy approaches," the queen chittered.

Cynellivere paused for a brief moment before nodding. "They are hostile?"

"They have not attacked, my lady. They are stationed one kilometer away from their side of the border. There is a single representative at the border, stating that it wishes to speak with you."

Cynellivere raised an eyebrow.

"What does the inferior monkey want?"

"It wants to discuss peace negotiation, whatever that is."

"... Very well, you will speak in my place."

The queen bowed. "As you wish, my lady."

And the queen sped up and moved towards the head of the marching army of half a million zergs.

Guinea was an African country, and to the rest of the world, this meant that it was one of the poor countries.

It didn't help that thanks to the rise of parahuman warlords all around its neighboring countries, Guinea had been forced to spend most of its funding defending itself rather than improving its infrastructure and economy. The standard of living hasn't improved since the 1990's and the world ignored it, signing it off as another part of Africa soon to fall to parahuman warlords.

Except it didn't. For the last two decades, Guinea fended its opponents valiantly, if a little poorly.

And all of that was about to come crashing down.

Two decades of constant war had drained the people of their strength, and the lack of help from the rest of the world had reduced their armory to scraps.

The army their president had gathered would be the last of its kind that Guinea would see for a long time. Proper uniform, oil-fueled tanks and trucks, and rifles with ammo's to spare.

'Truly,' Representative Cardi Ma'Mutota of the Republic of Guinea thought as he watched a single creature approach him. 'Is war comes, then this will be Guinea's last stand.'

As the creature came closer and closer, Cardi saw the details become clearer and clearer. Walking on six webbed legs like that of insects and two pairs of arms, one pair which looked more like stingers as it had no hands and were extremely long, it was an alien creature like that which he had never encountered before. Then it came right up to him, standing on the other side of the border, which was only marked by a single border check outpost with a single boom barrier.

It stared at him for a second before it chittered.

"I am the voice of my lady, Cynellivere, the daughter of the Father-Overmind. Speak, human," it said.

Cardi took in a deep breath.

"What does the Swarmlord want with us?" he asked.

The creature tilted its head. "Father-Overmind demands your subjugation by any means," it replied. "We, the zerg, will expand as Father-Overmind dictates, and he has declared that you, your people, and your lands will become part of his domain."

Cadi had to wonder if there was any purpose to this invasion. The parahuman warlords wanted power and influence. Was the Swarmlord the same?

"What if we submitted to him? What if we became his vassals?" he asked.

The creature tilted backward as if in shock before chittering.

"Then no invasion would be had. My lady's force would simply march through your land to reach other unconquered lands."

"... Please give us a month to decide this. We will come back with an answer."

There was a long pause, and Cadi felt his throat constrict.

"Very well. My lady shall return in a week."

"W-Week? Guinea needs at least a month to-"

"Should we start marching again?"

"... Two weeks."

"...Very well. Let it not be said that Cynellivere of the Swarm is not above negotiations."

heimbe: king (Mende)

190

Akallas von Aerok

Nov 22, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.6 Invasion of Liberia

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Nov 24, 2018

#487

The conference room was within the town center. The room itself was furnitured with the bare minimums for this meeting; wooden tables were positioned in a circle for forty seats as well as a bigger desk at the head of the conference room.

It was obvious to most people whose seat that was.

I watched as Zayin, my newest daughter, led my vassals into the room. I didn't have my "blood armor" with me right now. Rather, I had chosen to become more like them to not scare them off too badly. As such, my outfit for today's conference between the lord and his vassal was a simpler armor made from zerg flesh. Or rather, this was a biometal symbiotic suit. It was something I designed after devouring a local tinker.

Speaking of devouring, I found out that my ability to steal powers extended to anything that I considered to be myself biologically. So I just connected one of my duplicates to my version of a spawning pool and threw limbless parahumans in there for digestion and power stealing.

Well, I didn't just do that with parahumans. It was anyone really that my zergs caught that I deemed as "unnecessary." For example, that definitely Simurgh-bombed and frothing zealot promising in Mende that he will kill me. People like that, not the old and the young. Oh no, the old could be put to work on watching kids, and kids can certainly forage for food.

See? I'm not as monstrous as people keep saying about me.

The last of my vassals sat down. It was time.

I stood up.

Everyone quieted down and looked towards me.

"I am glad to see that all of you whom have sworn your allegiance have come answering my call for a national meeting. For that, I thank you." I paused for dramatics. "Unfortunately, I am also not one for pleasantries beyond the bare minimum, and I would rather spend my time creating than in meetings like these. As such, I will see to it that this is the only meeting that is necessary for the next twelve months. I hope I do not need to explain what would happen to those that require me to host another meeting because of their actions?" I asked.

It was silent.

"Good. Then the first thing we shall do is to establish basic foundation of laws…"

And also, while he ignored the demands and laws of others, it didn't mean that he couldn't make his own - and enforce them as he saw fit.

RATATATATATA

They were endless.

RATATATATATA

They were merciless.

RATATATATA-kuchunk.

They outnumbered bullets.

Following Crimson King's assault upon and the subsequent annexation of Sierra Leone as his territory, journalists and spies around the world, both foolish and brave, slipped into the territory of the only American parahuman warlord. Some got permission from both Crimson King himself and their home countries, like CNN and Fox News. Others weren't so open about their presence - like all of the spies.

Chelsey Mahatoro, a Japanese-American journalist working for BBC but attached to CNN, was one such brave soul. She documented the rapid expansion of Crimson King's territory, who the locals were calling "the Swarmlord."

And as she looked down upon the new warlord's invasion force rampage across the border into Liberia and laying waste to any and all defense forces sent to stop them, both the mundane and the parahuman, she couldn't help but agree with the local's title.

Watching from the one of two helicopter CNN had on the scene, she watched carapace of brown and purple tear down trees in a straight line from Sierra Leone to Liberia's cultist capital and former capital of the Republic of Liberia, Monrovia. It was a harrowing scene.

Like a plague, they ripped across the rainforest in numbers she couldn't count.

Like death, they were merciless and thorough.

Like their father, she only heard screams of the dying and the silence of the dead.

She shivered as she remembered Crimson King's first appearance with this horde of monsters. As a native of Brockton Bay, she had seen a lot of shit, but Crimson King always knew how to one-up everyone else.

"It's the cultists," the pilot sneered.

She looked up from the swarm far below the helicopter, and looked horizontally towards Monrovia. There, standing on the roads and rainforest and flying above them were the Endbringer cultists. They were out in force, unlike the mundane outposts the swarms had overrun in an instant.

… Was it bad of her to wish for Endbringer cultists to win? Was it horrible of her to wish for the demented capes of Africa to put an end to Crimson King's swarms?

She shook her head. It was a futile hope, because she had seen beforehand that the swarm that she was witnessing was less than half of the swarm Crimson King kept in Sierra Leone.

She watched as the purple of the swarm blotted out the browns and greens.

The wall of whites and greys of the cultists stood firm.

And then each side fired.

Green acids flew from the swarm, sizzling and hissing. Capes threw up shields and those who were hit screamed shrilly as their costumes and bodies burned away in seconds.

The capes fired back with fervor. Lasers, bombs, bullets, and shells launched in unison with a roaring thunder. Bombs and shells landed on or amidst the swarm, and when they detonated, threw up individuals of swarms that were impossible to see before. Lasers burned holes in the swarm, but they closed up like Crawler's regenerating wounds. Bullets did absolutely jackshit.

As the swarm rushed forward, ever faster and ever more shrieking and screeching, she could see the cultists' determination waver just like their lines did.

She watched the cultists frontliners, unable to contain themselves, roar out in reply to the swarm and charge.

The rest, unable to hold a line on their own that was moving forward, rushed to support.

She tensed and drew into herself as she watched the massive purple and a thin grey and white line charge each other.

And then crashed.

Bodies flew, both zerg and human, and flesh tore away.

Green acids spat from the swarm mass, missing and hitting. It was an odd symphony of images. She watched the acids shoot in hundreds, followed by more and more and more…

Fliers weaved beautifully, exercising all of their skills as the masters of the air, but against such numbers, there was no defense. They were struck by acids and fell to the ground like Icarus whose wings couldn't hold up against the heat of the sun.

On the ground, the cultists brutes were the strongest. They took hits that should've lopped away their limbs yet didn't, and returned life-threatening attacks with brutal takedowns and skull crushing blows. Acids splashed against the ebony skin, and they roared out in challenge.

Their triumph was short-lived as the grounds shook with the arrival of the behemoths.

Chelsey remembered what Crimson King called them.

Ultralisks.

Standing at seven stories high, the two she saw before her were as big as the monsters that took on Leviathan for what was a short moment, but Chelsey knew that these ultralisks won't be fighting Leviathan.

Oh no, they were fighting squishy humans.

The zergs moved out of the way instinctively as the ultralisks charged the thin line of cultist capes, aiming for the one cultist brute who had been doing so well against the tide of the swarm.

And the cultists broke when such a massive body slammed through and sliced the cape up in a single swing of its massive scythe arms.

The smaller zergs rushed into the gaps, surrounded the cultists, and killed them all with acids, claws, and spikes.

The victor was clear.

And the swarm rushed into the city, their intent clear as day.

177

Akallas von Aerok

Nov 24, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.7 Laws and Intelligence

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Nov 25, 2018

#517

In a way, directing people was in and of itself an experiment. I had the control group (USA) who became the first big democracy in the age of monarchies. Now, here I was, an experimental group (West African Protectorate set up by me) who was set up as a feudal monarchy under myself in an age of democracy. When I thought about it this way, being a king wasn't that bad of an idea.

Or at least that's what I thought when I gathered all of my current vassals. It didn't take long for them to start demanding things from me.

Especially Chu'obuta. Seriously, man? You don't think that I know that you are trying to overthrow me? I mean, come on! You are literally shouting to the world that you are recruiting people, especially parahumans, in "the defense of humanity." Don't you think that I don't know who you are referring to, mate? Doagutam was right when he called you senile.

Of course, I said none of this out loud. As much as I showed a lack of constrain back in Brockton Bay, I couldn't do that here - not when I wanted this new kingdom of mine to succeed.

"I do not believe that will be the case, Chu'obuta," I said as I leveled a glare his way. "You suggest that in future conquests, the spoils should be divided among my vassals, but I have no intention of honoring or rewarding a passive behavior that it would bring about. No, your suggestion is rejected," I replied.

The elderly parahuman clenched his fists but did not say anything.

"If there are spoils to be had, then you can expect those who made significant contributions in the campaign to be rewarded. I am not fond of nepotism, you understand, and I expect this lack of nepotism to be the norm in my kingdom. Is that understood?"

They nodded, some reluctantly and some in agreement.

Though I did say that I wanted this experiment to succeed, it didn't stop me from feeling stupid about starting it in the first place and allowing myself to be put under this kind of situation.

"We will then move on from wartime laws to civil laws," I said. "First," I said as I gestured to the humanoid zerg I made specifically to act as my scribe of sorts. It began to spit out leathery paper with my spoken word "First" written on it. I nodded in satisfaction before continuing. "The kingdom's laws overrule any laws and rules made by a province, city, or a lord. Second, the relationship between all of you and I are that of a lord and a king. When I call you to war, then you will provide me with the manpower that I demand or the cut of your fief's annual income. Third, I shall not attack or remove feudal contract from any lord who has done me no wrong. This wrong comes in the form of treason, and while I will not punish those who speak ill of me, acting upon those words will be met with the harshest punishment. In the case of a rebellion led by a lord, I will turn them and their families and their lieutenants and their families into biomass to create more of my zergs and others. Is this clear?"

They nodded.

"Fourth, I will not allow wars between my vassals. Anyone who instigates directly or indirectly such conflict will have committed a treason against me and my decree and will be punished as such…"

I made fifteen more "basic" laws that I put forth. A severely limited Bill of Rights was part of it as well as a ban on lifetime slavery.

Because fuck, there were some crimes that needed to be punished with slavery, but no one was going to be born as a slave or die a slave (unless you are a really bad criminal).

Conquest of Liberia was an affair that made most people uneasy.

Until this point, Crimson King had been just another warlord in the eyes of the uninitiated and the fool. The end to the existence of a state-wide Endbringer cult was also a welcome news for all of the world to hear. People hoped that this would be the end of Crimson King that they hear about.

Except it wouldn't be. On September 8, 2011, the news crews, independent journalists, diplomats, and spies stationed at West African Protectorate, formerly Sierra Leone, alerted the world to the fact that Crimson King, whose local name of Swarmlord had been released as well at this point, launched an invasion against Liberia.

Liberia, at the time, was a collapsing sovereign state bordering Sierra Leone. It had fought Sierra Leone's Endbringer cultists for years, and were on the verge of collapsing as a state, despite aid and help that poured in from around the world.

When Crimson King invaded Liberia, he cut down the Endbringer cultists brutally, sparing none. Despite the atrocity he committed, the danger of any Simurgh bombs made sure that no one made too big of deal out of it. This changed when he didn't stop at the execution of Endbringer cultists and moved to attack the rest of Liberia with the intent to destroy the last remnant of the Liberian government. Diplomats tried to get Crimson King to stop, but they were shocked into stopping by something else.

On September 27, 2011, Republic of Guinea capitulated to Crimson King without fighting, and Crimson King accepted them as his first vassal nation-state.

This submission of their government to Crimson King came with advantages and disadvantages. The first advantage was that the Crimson King was completely willing to take over the policing of physical crimes like theft, murder, and smuggling, freeing up the local police force for more delicate operations. This came with the disadvantage that the locals were surrounded by very murderous creatures all day and all night.

Second advantage that all locals experienced was that while crops had to be planted by the locals due to the lack of machines that would perform such a job, harvest could be done by many of the creatures bred by Crimson King. This freed up the populace for developmental activities like art and education. While the effect of this second advantage would not be seen for at least five years, the growth of his vassal states in non-economical areas quickly proved significant.

Another advantage, but certainly not the last, was the stability brought on by a lack of rampant parahuman cape villainy. Because any sort of villainy was taken seriously as any other crime that was committed by a non-cape and because punishment for such capes were far greater than their mundane counterparts. While everyone expected Crimson King to fail in his endeavor, he turned their expectation around by stomping down on any and all parahuman villains in his area of control, which often times exceeded his borders.

More often than not, this was an infringement of sovereign territory and the United Nations and its members denounced Crimson King. This wasn't to say that all citizens of nations affected by Crimson King's lack of borders suffered. Often times, there were citizens who welcomed the Crimson King's policing creatures and …

Excerpt from the book, "Red Empire: the Beginning" written by Tota Leon, Doctor of International Political Science.

"A spy?" I asked Zayin, my youngest daughter.

The ebony skinned zerg-human hybrid nodded. She was created by me to fulfill a role that I was a novice at: intelligence gathering. For this, she was granted four of the shards that I had harvested from the local parahumans, all of which were either a Thinker, Stranger, or Master ability geared towards her intended activity. Of course, I was also aware of the fact that shards tended to influence their hosts, and to counter this, I muted not only her negative emotional response but also some of the survival ones inherent in zergs and humans.

"Bring him to me," I said as I turned back to my research.

It's been a week since I set forth the kingdom wide laws that all of my vassals would have to follow and enforce upon their citizens, and so far, there were no incidents that required me to leave the confines of my Northern Sierra Leone Zerg Hive. The project I was working on right now was really big, perhaps Endbringer big if I succeed in realizing even half of its idea.

Zayin vowed and walked away from me.

This project was … it was a vanity project. I didn't need a show of force this project would be, but I wanted it regardless. It was something that I saw when I was young, and it had been burned into my mind. To me, this was both the ugliest and the most beautiful creation I could bring forth into reality. It would be an achievement that would make the zerg look like a small major achievement rather than the pinnacle of biological evolution that the zergs were.

So as I stared upon the thirty meter skeleton, I grew angry because someone had interrupted my research. I had no bloody time to spend on anything else right now!

I stopped my internal monologue before it could truly get off and leave me a seething monster.

This was a side effect from harvesting all of those shards. All of them were competing for me to use them. It made my temper shorter and my urge to destroy stronger. I had done my best to counter these urges, of course, going so far as to mess with my own brain to limit mental influences upon me, but having more than a hundred shards still amounted to a lot of mental force being exerted on myself.

Zayin reappeared from the far side of my lab with a prisoner following her. His distaste for her was clear, but he couldn't do anything against her. This was the power of a shard that I called, Lawgiver. It allowed its user to "install" mental commands into people. Stronger their mental fortitude, the less mental commands that could be installed, though there was a minimum of one command that could be placed regardless of mental strength.

"Your commands?" I asked her as she and the prisoner came to a stop in front of me.

"Mimic my action. Do not harm. Answer with truth to all questions."

I nodded in approval. "Simple and broad. Good job." I turned to the spy.

A man of thirty-ish and of Caucasian descent, he looked fairly normal.

"Who are you?"

"I am Alexander."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Who do you work for?"

"Martin."

I thought about the answers and the laws set forth by Zayin.

I grinned. "Ah… he does answer truthfully but never in detail because he doesn't need to."

Zayin nodded, slightly ashamed of what she must see as her failure.

"No worries, I can take over the interrogation from here, Zayin."

She looked aghast at the notion. "Father, it is my jo-"

I smiled, and she stopped.

"Don't worry about it, Zayin. I'll just dump this one into the biomass pool afterwards."

The look on the spy showed how resigned he was.

She nodded hesitantly before turning to the spy. "Remain still for as long as you can physically. I rescind 'mimc my action.'"

The man hissed but did not move from his standing position. His muscles bulged but did nothing else.

I nodded to her and she stepped back. I turned back to the spy.

"What organization were you sent by to my kingdom?" I asked.

He certainly tried to fight back but it was futile. "Gesellschaft."

"Ho~?" I uttered. "I didn't think they were that interested in me. Alright, what specifics were you sent here to discover?"

"Number of troops."

Hmm, still answering vaguely as he could.

"Have you done any crimes?"

"No." The response was quick.

"Let me ask again. Have you performed any actions outside of espionage that would have criminalized you in America?" I asked again. This time, the answer came slower and more reluctantly.

"Yes."

"Is it sabotage?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Next question: death by being eaten or burning?"

He paled.

"Burning," his own mouth said.

"Cool."

I lit him on fire on the spot. He screamed, still unable to move, as he burned. In five minutes, he was dead. I grabbed it and tossed it to the nearby spawning pool, which was some thirty meters away. The carcass flew in an arc and landed with a deep splash.

"Nice," I muttered to myself. "Three points for me." I turned to Zayin. "Bring me more spies. They are disturbing my kingdom, which is disturbing my work here. I find this intolerable. Also, bring me my human secretary. She has letters to write and to send."

187

Akallas von Aerok

Nov 25, 2018

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Threadmarks 4.7a Brockton Bay and Senator Heistukki

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Nov 29, 2018

#538

Senator Heistukki was on screen again, Daniel Hebert noted. "Crimson King is a menace and a threat to our American security-!" And he was ranting about Crimson King again.

Danny didn't understand why so many in the government refused to leave Crimson King alone. Even when the man was in Brockton Bay, he kept to himself until the gangs bothered him. Of course, once bothered the man had a tendency to go overboard with his retaliation.

He bit into his toast and chewed slowly, keeping his eye on the TV.

It's been over two months since Leviathan hit Brockton Bay. It was already a dying city, but Leviathan was the nail that did it. The city was condemned…

And everyone would have eventually left it had it not been for "Oracle." A child cape, a concept that hurt his heart, Oracle appeared with her silent guardians, a pair of silent and vegetable loving capes that everyone knew were Crimson King's monsters - and loaned money from … somewhere. With that money, she came to him for guidance.

Instead of taking it all upon himself, he enlisted the advice of three others, Councilor Kaz de Monestes of now defunct Brockton Bay, Eren Michaelson, and - surprisingly to others - Director Emily Piggot of PRT ENE. Oracle and they planned together and put that money to good use.

The first was demolition. All unusable buildings, whether they were in the area affected by tidal waves or beyond, were demolished and paved over. This was done with safety in mind as people do still live in the condemned city. This earned them the good will of the region, though most were confused as to why they wasted money - however little - in a condemned city.

Two, they needed an industry. The PRT served as one, but it was a minor party in the bigger picture. Tourism suffered but not by much. The leaked videos of Crimson King fighting Leviathan in what the internet called "dragon king mode" replaced the usual tourists. In essence, cape groupies came. After someone discovered Crimson King's "dragon king mode" scale - a material later tested to be stronger than diamond yet as malleable as iron - in the waters and one of Crimson King's experiment, a too-fast-multiplying-three-eyed-fish-that-tastes-like-beef, they had their second industry. Emily Piggot, despite her dislike of Crimson King and anything related to him, got the fish and the collection of "crimson dragon scales" as PRT-approved. And thus, the Dockworkers Union was transformed into "Bay Collection Agency" with the sole right to distribute license to harvest either materials as well as to provide manpower for it.

Of course, with the recovery of the Bay and the building of new infrastructures to support it, the gangs came back explosively.

That's where the PRT came in. Prior to the actual establishment of the Baycollectors, PRT bought several buildings and refurbished them as "district zone passing points" and built walls connecting those outposts to form a barricade for a Dock-Downtown joint district.

To everyone's surprise, the land they needed to build the walls was already demolished and ready for them! How curious, eh?

Not only did the PRT then need more manpower to keep those stations occupied to check for parahumans and gangs passing by, they needed more funding because their headquarter was in a condemned city. Since headquarters can't be moved willy-nilly, Emily Piggot expertly argued before New Hampshire state congress that there should be tax on income generated by work done in the newly specialized Brockton Bay district, and also argued that since this income goes directly to the state now, the PRT should gain some of it for their own funding, no?

Of course, the process involved took a lot more than just Piggot demanding so - subtly or not - and took a lot more power - political, that is - from the rest of Oracle's advisors. Particularly, it took a lot out of his favors. In fact, he spent so much of all of the political favors he built up over his life that he more or less went broke on them. Hell, he even called up on favors that his dead father had!

But he didn't care. Or rather, he did care about how he spent them because he spent his favors well. In the end, Brockton Bay, despite its official status as a condemned city, was coming alive again.

"-America needs to mobilize its forces to an end to Crimson King before he becomes a continental Nilbog! Look, he has already-"

Man, can that senator rant.

Danny wondered whose pocket he was in.

"It didn't work," Senator Heistukki grumbled as he sat around the table with his cohorts. With him were the nine "warhawks" of the current US congress. They have been named so by the country after their insistence that Crimson King and other biotinkers like him needed to be put down for the safety of their nation.

They were instead mocked at, though their constituents agreed with them.

Personally, Heistukki didn't understand the actions of the rest of the country.

Blasto, Nilbog, Bonesaw, and Crimson King were all biotinkers who killed people and spat upon the government, the representative of the entire country! They spawned monsters that birthed chaos in their wake, and nothing was supposed to be done about them?!

It irked him that his great nation was bowing down to the whims of criminals and villains. Youngsters emulated them. Adults ignored them if it didn't affect them. The elderly, like him, complained but received no positive response from the rest.

His nation was falling apart and he hated it like nothing else. What use was his own burning rage if no one shared in it? More and more these days, he felt useless.

"As much as I hate to admit, I don't think anyone will move on the issue," his friend, Democrat Representative Howard Zacharia of Massachusetts, said as he gently dabbed his lips with the handkerchief.

Heistukki sighed. "What about Tagg?" he asked.

Tagg was their only ally among the directors of the Parahuman Response Team. Tagg agreed fully with them that Crimson King was a monster that needed to be put down. In fact, he went so far as to say that Africa was a fertile ground where Crimson King would only grow, not stagnate.

This proved to be true, and everyone here remembered seeing the literal swarm of monsters run over Sierra Leone and Liberia, quickly followed by the capitulation of Guinea.

Images from what few satellites still in American possession showed pictures of an infection spreading out from West Africa.

Heistukki feared that they will eventually come after America and its bountiful lands.

The people didn't understand, though. They ignored him and his colleagues, and some have even threatened to censure him.

Him! The man looking out for American interest and not his own! Censure him for speaking of a threat to American safety and prosperity!

He clenched his jaw in anger.

"Oi oi, Hei. Watch your blood pressure," the calmest and perhaps a little bit stupid Democrat Senator Gregory Hotoyashi of Hawaii said.

Republican Senator Sarah Myersojn of Kansas grunted in agreement. Then there was a bit of silence. "Why don't we urge others to fight in our stead?"

Everyone turned to him.

"What?" Heistukki asked.

"Crimson is not just a threat to us; he's a threat to humanity," Myersojn replied. "Even the likes of those idiotic and racist Gesellschaft knows this. Get them and Yangbang to bleed against Crimson while we turn the public opinion and finally get our nation engaged against him."

A contemplative chatter broke out among his cohorts and Heistukki thought that the idea had its merits.

It certainly did...

179

Akallas von Aerok

Nov 29, 2018

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Threadmarks 5.a Taylor

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Dec 1, 2018

#549

She spent the last month doing one thing: investigating.

What, they may ask (they being everyone).

Well, the community formed by the leftover experiments of Crimson King.

Yes, the monster experiments of Crimson King, after being released and surviving the spiderpocalypse, gathered together to form their own community. Shunned as a biotinker's mad experiments and dangers to the current workings of society, they gathered together to make a community because life wasn't fair to them. To that end, they occupied the tunnels that one of Crimson King's giant worm-zergs made in the outer skirt of the town. The only reason they weren't attacked by the PRT or the Protectorate or any other organization was because Oracle warned everyone that there was a 90.9% chance that Crimson King would turn his attention back to Brockton Bay.

Taylor privately thought that Oracle wanted this to happen, because never once did Oracle mention how well the heroes would do against Crimson King's escaped experiments.

Their situation, however, rang with her own experience as an outcast not by choice but by actions of others. She wanted to get to know this ragtag group of monsters because at times, she still felt like that among regular people, even though her dad's rise in power had caused some popularity for her as well.

So, she spent a month just hanging out on the edge of their settlement, observing and recording. It was … really hard to watch at times. Many of them were staggeringly ugly simply because of how Crimson King left them be after their experiments didn't pan out (she assumed). Some of them had too many eyes, mouths, hands, or a combination of them all. Sometimes, they didn't even have human shapes and most of them were hurt in one way or another.

The one that made her heart clench whenever she saw it (he, she, they?) was a legless thing that looked like someone grabbed a kid and melted their flesh… and the skin melted with them. Just looking at it made her want to vomit and hurl, and time only made it worse. It suffered a fate worse than most - it was used as a food source because of its regenerative ability. Because no one came to help the experiment, some of whom definitely used to be people, because of fear, food never got delivered to them either.

With no option left, some of them had resorted to cannibalism. It was during this initial cannibal-fest that the monsters discovered the little critter's ability TO NOT DIE and regenerate any and all body part that it lost.

They tore at it everyday, some even crying and apologizing as they did so, for food.

And its squeals of pain as they tore into it everyday-!

Taylor shuddered.

But it was for survival. She wondered, if she were in their position, if she would do the same thing in the name of survival. After all, it didn't die, right? It didn't talk and didn't communicate except to squeal in pain. It must be an animal, right?!

That was the excuse some of them shouted, trying to convince themselves of the horrifying acts they did in the name of survival.

But the initial horror changed to indifference and then bullying. They went and named it "meatbag."

The night it earned its name, "meatbag" left the settlement to cry over the night before returning to face the same abuse.

Taylor was horrified by it. No. Rather, she had never lost her horror over the situation. It was like watching another of herself.

It surprised her that she felt more connected to it than anyone or any monster.

Today … today, she decided to do something about it.

As "meatbag" left the center to a corner of the settlement, she slowly approached it from the trees. Meatbag's one remaining big eye looked up to the sky, completely ignoring everything else.

As she walked closer, Taylor noted how small it was. Barely reaching up to her knees, it was a pitiful thing.

Then it noticed her.

He waddled as it turned to face, its eye incapable of turning in its socket.

It gurgled at her, but the slow resigned look and tone was all she needed to hear before ran over to it and hugged it.

She cried embracing a confused monster.

She was so pitiful as to cry for the monster who she wanted to console and help.

It gurgled again before falling silent, allowing her to cry in its stead.

171

Akallas von Aerok

Dec 1, 2018

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Threadmarks 5.b Taylor's a Working Woman Now!

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Dec 6, 2018

#569

"-imson King has invaded Mauritania-"

Taylor only half-heartedly listened to the news that the other monsters were paying rapt attention to.

"Will Brockton Bay improve if Crimson King's escaped experiments are helped with minimum necessities within the next month?"

"72.33% chance that Brockton Bay will improve?" Oracle had answered with a cute, confused frown on her face.

With that confirmation, she had gone and done the most she could. She applied her power to commercial business as dad had suggested, using bees to pollinate flowers of fruit trees and berry bushes across New England farms. She took the money she earned (with the goddamn 45% tax because she was a parahuman!), and used it to buy vegetables by the truckload and delivered them to Exile's Village, which was what everyone was calling the town.

With her influence as the daughter of the new Baycollector's head of union, she managed to get some amenities and foodstuff shipped to the isolated monster community. She even talked her dad by telling him about Oracle's projection of the future.

She did, however, use this as an excuse to get the Exiles to give up cannibalism and give up custody of "meatbag" over to her. They eagerly agreed. Most of them had hated doing so anyway, and the mere thoughts of fresh vegetables was enough to win over them. They did get her to agree to send some meat every weekend.

Her life was … more complicated now. She spent lengthy amount of time moving around the entire New England area, visiting farms with contracts with her. But she was okay with that because she did so in a modest trailer with John, aka meatbag, and few others dad approved of.

Speaking of these others…

"Mary, why do you stare at the news all day long?" she asked the elderly lady.

Mary, the eldest among them, was a fifty-seven year old widow whose husband had died in Leviathan's rampage but whose children had been saved by one of Crimson King's many clones. The news of her husband of thirty year's death, however, had caused her to trigger.

Officially, she was recorded as the oldest person on Earth to trigger.

Her power? The ability to turn into what could only be called a "giant water elemental." She was also officially hired by the Bay Collection Agency, and part of Taylor's own retinue.

"When you get to my age, honey, you just like listening to the news and thinking bad things about everyone and everything. For example, why the fuck is Crimson King invading Saharan bumfuck nowhere? Is he dumb?"

Taylor had to agree with that.

Crimson King was … a very complicated subject for most of Brockton Bay's denizens. On one hand, he was the creator of the Exiles and a very consummate monster with little morals. On the other hand, he got rid of the gangs, made parahumans in general toe the line more, and prevented Leviathan from doing more than damage to Brockton Bay.

Taylor herself was ambivalent to Crimson King except on the issue of Exiles.

"What's our next stop?" she asked.

"Pine Hill Orchards," Mary, without looking away from the satellite TV, answered.

5.1 - New Additions

I think after the twentieth public execution of spies and my theft of powers from the parahuman ones, most countries decided that it just wasn't worth spying on me… with spies.

Content to finally be left alone, I continued my conquest of Africa. While Cynellivere conquered Mauritania and moved towards Morocco, I joined the eastern conquests, having completed one part of my research and feeling a little bit of cabin fever.

And what benefit did the new research have?

Living ordinance.

Since I now had firmly cemented my foundation as a "swarmlord," - that is, I believed that I had sufficient experience with controlling massive continent spanning zerg swarms - I introduced the first of many new creatures to join the ranks of my swarm.

Specifically, since there was a need for artillery within my swarm, I had recreated the Tyranid Biovore.

A Tyranid Biovore was kind of like a land submarine mixed with an artillery given lifeform of a squat fleshy and chitinous thing. They were my counterpart to modern artillery because a Biovore was capable of launching living mines over long distance, which possessed rudimentary intelligence and exploded not on impact but on proximity to its enemies. Had the Biovore and its spore mines been true Tyranid, then the mines would explode when anything but a Biovore was nearby on Earth, but since it was my creation from a fictional idea, I made it so that it would recognize enemies, not just Tyranids.

How did I do this? I amplified the psychic presence of the Swarm, and keyed the spore mine to that psychic field signature. This would have the unfortunate impact for the local humans and fauna, causing unease at a fundamental emotional level. It was minor enough, however, that I decided to continue Biovore and Spore Mine production.

And now, ten days after the research had been completed, I was marching upon Ghana.

Rebecca Costa-Brown watched on TV as brave news reporters stationed at West Africa filmed Crimson King - or was it Swarmlord now? - march upon Ghana as well as Ghanan response to the declaration of war that had been declared a day ago by a now dead "diplomat" of the Crimson King.

Ghana at this point in time on Earth Bet had been hostilely taken over by parahuman military junta rather than a single warlord. Unlike many other warring states of parahuman Africa, Ghana's leadership was able to utilize their resources to improve their internal affairs, increasing economic output and military stability.

It looked like the junta's rule was coming to an end, however, because Rebecca knew that it was impossible for Ghana alone to face against Crimson King's vast army.

Still, the news crews filmed the admittedly fast mobilization of Ghana's mundane army and parahuman agents.

One of the news reporters walked up to one of the officers of Ghana's army. "Sir, sir!" the attractive blonde asked, shouting for attention among the busy military base. "Can you give us an interview?"

The African officer hesitated before glancing up and down the reporter and nodding. "Very well," he spoke in smooth English. "Be quick."

"Thank you for your time," she quickly said with a smile. "Everyone around the world is watching the news, and the war that is about to unfold between the forces of the Crimson King, or Swarmlord as many are calling him now, and your nation's army. How well do you think the battle will go?" she asked before presenting the mike to the officer.

The officer hesitated again.

"Ghana has been gathering intelligence about the Insect King," he started out strong. "We know that most of his creatures are weak to fire, and this is why we've employed many flamethrowers and parahumans who can use fire. We also know that his army likes to charge ahead. We intend to use that against them. I will have to decline speaking of such details, I'm sure you understand."

The blonde nodded. "Thank you very much, sir," she said before turning back to the camera. "It seems that Ghanan military officers on the ground are confident of their chances," she said as she slowly walked away while the camera showed the whole military camp's mobilization. "And it has to be said that Ghana has hired parahuman mercenaries with a lofty promise: if Crimson King is defeated, then his lands will be divided among them depending on how much contribution each mercenary offers the military. This is unprecedented turn of events in military history as mercenaries were often given paychecks rather than land as payment. This also poses another challenge for Ghana, however. If they did win this war against Crimson King, then would they not be inviting parahuman warlords as their neighbors? This was Mary Sherlene. Back to you, Michael."

Michael, the anchor of CNN tonight, nodded his head to the camera. "Thank you for your on-site coverage, Mary. As our reporter stated, Ghana has indeed hired mercenaries at both unprecedented numbers and promise. Our source within Ghanan military states that there are at least five hundred parahumans who have joined Ghanan defense. While we are unsure of what kind of effect this will have on the battlefield, one thing is certain: a level of force that has been once used only against Endbringers will be brought to bear upon Crimson King.

"We will now go to Crimson King's swarm, where he is personally leading the army towards Ghana."

A stream appeared on one side of the TV. It showed three separate streams. Two of them were from drones operated by crew on a helicopter and the last was from a cameraman and a reporter.

"Stacy, how's the creepy crawlers over there?" the anchor asked, trying to be playful about it. But his pale face told all viewers exactly what he felt about the screen he was seeing.

And most people would have the same reaction. All three video streams showed a purple and brown swarm tearing its way through the lands, tearing up trees and trampling farmlands. It wasn't the ground that scared the viewers, though.

It was the air.

Hundreds of thousands of flyers and perhaps even more than that. They were like a storm, constantly circling over the vast swarm beneath them to allow the slower swarm below to catch up to them, but in doing so, they gave form to a fluid part of a swarm that watchers from afar could see in horror. It was like a giant beacon for all to see in broad daylight of the equator.

It was a shifting black cloud of wings, screeches, and fangs that heralded the main swarm body.

The third screen showed something new, though (new for the news reporters who had bravely filmed the swarm). It was a squat thing that moved slowly at the center of the swarm's formation. What must have caught the attention of the operators keeping the drone on that creature was the really really big tube, a tube that looked too much like a giant cannon from 18th century.

They lumbered forward with the swarm.

"It seems that this new creature is the cause for the swarm's slower advance towards Ghana," the reporter on-site stated. "It reminds me a lot of World War II artilleries with its big tube."

Rebecca grimaced as she took in the sight of the creature. It was different in the color scheme compared to the usual purple and brown zergs, and there was something more off putting about it too.

Her mind whirled as she tried to figure what it was.

Then it clicked when the camera panned out a bit and she saw sacs on the creatures.

"Artillery," she muttered. Just like the reporter had said on a offhand comment, it was artillery, and considering that its ammunition were kept in sacs, they were very likely to be firing living things as "shells."

"... Door me."

The rest of Cauldron must know of this. Crimson King was diversifying again.

166

Akallas von Aerok

Dec 20, 2018

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Threadmarks 5.c Cauldron Schemes

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Dec 20, 2018

#590

Doctor Mother closed her eyes as she contemplated the situation.

"They're not going to win," Number Man said casually without looking up from his laptop. Despite the casual way he commented, his fingers were running furiously over the keyboard. No doubt, he was making calculations about Crimson King and the Ghanan military's clash as well as a way for Cauldron to benefit from this for the sake of humanity.

Despite what many people thought of Crimson King, the lands he had taken over experienced stability very shortly afterwards. Sierra Leone was now safer than most African cities, and safer than many American metropolis where villains and heroes clashed almost on a weekly basis. Crimson King, however, was bad for the survival of humanity, because parahumans that existed in his territory had roughly 81% chance of dying to his zergs. Those who sought to be "heroes" have far higher chance of survival, but it was only 30% difference.

This was, of course, bad for the final battle against Scion… which went against what Crimson King hinted at. He hinted that he knew about the battle that was to come and yet, he went to Africa and undid parts of their plans on a dime.

Crimson King irked Rebecca because he was a loose cannon of the highest order, and Doctor Mother knew this.

Stopping him was, however, worse than letting him continue, which was the only reason Doctor Mother hadn't given Rebecca her vote in eliminating the monster king.

Those "zergs" of his were ever evolving creatures, and both Cauldron Thinkers, which included Number Man and more, and PRT think tank both projected that loss of Crimson King would cause a spiraling out of control growth of the zergs, and the Protectorate would not be able to put a stop to it, especially once the zergs incorporated parahuman powers far more than they were doing now.

It was projected that attacking Nilbog would have less damage to Earth Bet than killing Crimson King, if they managed it somehow, and Nilbog was cape who had multiple failsafes for his demise. Of course, the projection could be biased because Crimson King had already killed Nilbog, but the projection held true after multiple scrutinies.

"Also, we have to sabotage Crimson King's base soon," he added.

Eidolon, who had been quiet so far, spoke up. "Why would we need to do something like that? Isn't that usually Contessa's job?"

Number Man grimaced. "Whatever he has in there, its completion will make Crimson King more or less invulnerable on par with Scion."

Eyes grew wide across the table. Their even more silent - but irregular - partners spoke up. Shrouded in shadow, their details were obscured, but everyone knew who this was.

"Explain fast, Number Man," the figure said in a deep voice in Asian accent.

Number Man grimaced. "Though there are many factors that can boost Crimson King's ability to defend and attack, the biggest changes so far had been his zerg swarm and absorption of Nilbog's power. The latter made him on par with Triumvirate in terms of power and on par with Protectorate branch leaders in terms of popularity. The creation of his zerg swarm killed that PR but boosted his power projection by three fold."

"I don't get it," Eidolon grunted. "How can his abominations increase his power projection?"

Rebecca frowned. "Because his zergs can take parahuman powers."

Everyone around the table stiffened.

It was a fact that hadn't been released before then, but a necessary disclosure now.

"And we haven't heard of this before why?" the Asian member growled. "I sent my parahuman soldiers in … to give the monster king more power?!"

Rebecca glared. "It was why we told you to send only low tier spies, Shen Yu!" she shouted. "We all know goddamn well that you sent some of your best in there!"

"That monster was encroaching on our experiments in Africa. Of course, we had to do something about it. At least, I tried something unlike you!"

"We were trying to get Crimson King to show his hands!"

Doctor Mother sighed as the two rivals started their bickering again.

In the end, it was decided that Cauldron and its assets as a whole would work to prevent Crimson King's expansion.

Contessa would urge the European powers to support Morocco and Algiera.

Shen Yu would send Yangban expendable agents to train and boost African warlords' own parahumans ranks.

Alexandria would use her political power, both as Chief Director of PRT and as a member of the Triumvirate, to get the USA to invest its own black ops attacks against Crimson King.

They may not be able to kill him now because he was necessary against Scion, but by God could they make his life hard.

And Eidolon?

Using a different guise, he would assault Crimson King's underground labs and destroy whatever was inside of it while the man was too busy with conquering Ghana.

Spoiler: "a/n"

173

Akallas von Aerok

Dec 20, 2018

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Threadmarks 5.2 - Another Domino

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Dec 22, 2018

#624

My scouts found the Ghanan military much before they spotted us. This was mostly due to the fact that my zerglings could burrow and pop up to check the coast while being able to very vaguely sense what was on the surface if they were very near the surface.

But I'm not here to talk about the pros and cons of zergling uses in warfare.

No, I was here to stomp some Ghanan ass.

I observed through the eyes of my zerglings as their army set up artillery stations, which I had feared.

While the zerg swarm tactic was something that not many modern strategist could stop or even counter, artillery still did a shit ton of damage to my numbers, especially for the squishier critters like my zerglings like hydralisks.

… Huh, look at me now. I'm calling hydralisks "squishy," whose carapace sometimes shrug off low caliber bullets. My standards must have changed a lot without me noticing.

That said, I actually wanted Ghana to deploy their artillery, because I invaded them not for population, biomass, or territory but for an experiment.

The Tyranid Biovores (were they ever Tyranid, though?) received my directions rather quickly. Their lumbering walk slowed to a crawl as did the swarm. There was no need for my swarm to march ahead while I let the Biovores do their work, hmm?

Unlike the land swarm, the mutalisk swarm above did get directions to further advance even as the walking swarm were ordered to curve around the rainforests and hills of Ivory Coast and Ghana.

While they did that, one hundred Biovores entrenched themselves.

As soon as they were ready, I grinned maniacally.

Speaking out the order wasn't necessary, but it felt right nonetheless.

"Fire."

The Biovores groaned and roared as the launching tubes on their back lurched and Spore Mines in their tentacled glory shot out with the same explosive launch as a tank shell.

The cameraman caught sight of it before the military.

"In the sky!" he shouted, wanting to point to it to the TV viewers and the military.

The military saw the continuously pouring things flying to them in the sky, and their Anti-Air guns roared to life.

Beams of light lit up the day sky with yellows and reds.

The projectiles were too small, and most of them made it to the military's position.

The camera zoomed in on one as it landed less than a hundred meters from it was. It was like a football with exhausts and tentacles.

Then everyone watched as the thing exploded. Green acid splashed everywhere, melting anything and the ground that stood in its splash zone, with bits of sharp carapace, striking at equipment and soldiers too far away for the acids.

Men and women, soldier and parhauman, screamed and screeched as the bio-weapon's acids melted their skins, muscles, and bones.

The camera caught sight of one man who only got splashed in the arms, and the forearms had melted off. He sat there on the ground, screaming at his missing arms.

More of those living weapons landed among the soldiers and artillery, and they exploded like water balloons.

Camera whipped about, trying to capture the horror of it all. The TV viewers also heard the cameraman's gasp of terror as the camera whipped around … to one of those things less than five meters from where the cameraman was.

It exploded, and the camera got splashed. The last sound everyone watching the stream heard was the sound of the cameraman's screams and gurgles.

Cameras held by or operated on drones by others continued to film the devastation wrecked upon the Ghanan military. Some of them were smarter about their positioning and placed themselves far away from everyone else.

One such camera operator had her camera on a drone and filming the entire massacre from the air. She was here to film a documentary, so there was no stream being made from her filming.

Perhaps it was because of that that she felt an even greater levels of horror, because she knew that most news crews and cameramen would be focused on the scene of such devastation … and would not see the flying swarm of teeth and drools closing in on them.

The bombardment stopped, and the flying swarm descended upon them.

She trembled in the seat of the shitty rented landrover with her equipment surrounding her as she saw normal humans and powerful parahumans fight a losing battle. Powerful parahumans fired attacks after attacks but what use were one or two blasts against infinitiy?

And that's what it looked like. Even as her drone retreated faster and faster until it hit the speed limit, the size of the swarm never grew smaller. The ever rotating swarm was like a hurricane on land with the Ghanan military at the center of it.

Then the trees were torn apart as the main body of Crimson King's zerg swarm approached the humans.

The last thing her drone recorded was the roars of two dozen ultralisks as they charged into the feeble gunfire of human weapons.

Last edited: Dec 22, 2018

162

Akallas von Aerok

Dec 22, 2018

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Threadmarks 5.d PHO, After CK v Ghana: Round 1

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Dec 24, 2018

#639

Merry Christmas!

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Topic: Crimson King (Swarmlord) vs. Ghana

In: Boards ► Africa ► West Africa

RealTimeStrategy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 23, 2011:

Ummm So that happened.

Recap for those of you who don't know what the hell is going on. Crimson King, aka Swarmlord, aka the King of West Africa, aka American Warlord, aka Gobling Slayer, declared war on Ghana on October 20th, 2011 with a zerg diplomat. Zergs are creatures of various sizes, shapes, and sentience that Crimson King created in Brockton Bay as early as May, 2011. With the declaration of war, both Crimson King's "West Africa Protectorate" and Ghana mobilized their forces. And by mobilize, Crimson King assembled over a million of his zergs and Ghana began to hire parahumans with lofty promises and rather large sums of money (as far as Ghanan currencies went).

Crimson King decided to pull a Blitzkrieg on Ghanan military. Even before scouts from Ghanan army could spot them, CK's zergs pounded them with their "bio-artillery" and then swarmed the survivors with hit-and-run "clippers." Then he swarmed them over. Estimated death count for Ghana is over a hundred thousand regular soldiers and at least a hundred parahuman mercenaries and thirty of Ghanan sanctioned parahumans.

Edit: Just go HERE to check out all of the critters CK made and the internet's (and PHO's) observation of the critters.

CamomilleKing

Posted on October 23, 2011:

Umm, is this the same guy who lived in Brockton Bay for a few months?

Xyloloup

Posted on October 23, 2011:

CamomilleKing Get on with the program, dog. Of course this is that guy. You know, the guy who did THIS.

RealTimeStrategy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 23, 2011:

Yeah, that happened.

Vincent818181

Posted on October 23, 2011:

Umm, shouldn't we do something about that? Like, I don't know, send the Protectorate to stop him? Because if he expands at this rate, all of Africa will be his.

EvilSpaceMarine

Posted on October 23, 2011:

The Protectorate and the PRT kicked him out already once for turning Brockton Bay into a quaratine zone with his giant spiders. I agree with Vincent on this one. DO SOMETHING ALREADY!

Xyloloup

Posted on October 23, 2011:

Spiders. Yeah.

I almost got killed by those things.

And he made those on a whim. He's currently making shit for conquest. Do you want the entire Protectorate to die fighting someone on another continent?

You dumb?

EvilSpaceMarine

Posted on October 23, 2011:

Xyloloup so you want to give him more time to grow? Do you even know how big Africa is and how much biomass that place has? If he takes over all of West Africa, the world's done. If he can do half the shit we think he can do, then he will be able to mass produce his zergs on a level we haven't seen before.

I'm telling you all: Crimson King is currently SANDBAGGING HARD.

RealTimeStrategy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 23, 2011:

EvilSpaceMarine do you have some calculations with you that you want to share? I mean, I don't think even the PRT has evidence on how his zergs are made.

AllSeeingEye

Posted on October 24, 2011:

No. PRT has the information but they are not sharing it with anyone under Chief Director Costa-Brown's orders. I don't know the details, though.

User has received an infraction for this post. Do not spread false information - Tin_Mother

Tin_Mother (Moderator)

Posted on October 24, 2011:

AllSeeingEye Do not spread false information about government files, AllSeeingEye. It creates unnecessary paranoia.

Xyloloup

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Is it really bad, though? I mean, CK doesn't really do anything to people who don't do anything to him. For this reason alone, though, I think our great USA might be on his list of naughty children. I mean, we all saw the spy executions, right?

DOWnotDWO

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Argh, don't remind people of that. Most of them were horrific.

Xyloloup

Posted on October 24, 2011:

At least most of them didn't get tortured prior to their executions like Russia would. Or any other country. They get caught and they get killed, pretty straightforward.

RealTimeStrategy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Yeah, let's not talk about executions. Who knows. Maybe one of them was a Protectorate hero sent to spy on the evil King and got killed for it.

Respect to all brave men and women who went into the literal heart of any abomination's wetdream by the way.

EvilSpaceMarine

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Personally, I think that Ghana was dumb. They should have had better defenses.

DOWnotDWO

Posted on October 24, 2011:

What kind of defense would hold up against THAT?

EvilSpaceMarine

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Anything but bunching up which makes them an easy target?

Not putting all of their eggs in one basket?

Hiring parahumans and actually putting them to use proactively?

There are literal shit tons of ways they could have gone about this better.

CamomilleKing

Posted on October 24, 2011:

… You know something, ESM is right. It made no sense for Ghana to do what they did. Or are we not seeing everything and thinking that what we saw was everything?

RealTimeStrategy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Huh? CamomilleKing explain that for us.

cRiPPLM

Posted on October 24, 2011:

He means that despite what the videos show from multiple perspective, this is a video showing only one site.

CamomilleKing

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Ghana supposedly has more than a hundred thousand soldiers, but at max, the videos we have seen of Ghana vs Crimson King showed at best ten thousand and only thirty artillery pieces. On top of that, we saw none of the parahumans under Ghana's employ, either as member of their armed forces or their mercenaries.

Edit: Ninja'ed.

Edit: It's very possible that the soldiers we saw die were left there on purpose. Kind of like an example for the swarm to "show" their forces and how they act.

RealTimeStrategy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 24, 2011:

The fuck? Who leaves ten thousand soldiers as example?

cRiPPLM

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Someone very ruthless. It makes sense, though. 100 is too small for any real data to be obtained from. 1,000 will still get wiped out too quickly. 10,000 and some artillery pieces? They are worth going after, especially if placed right between the approaching enemy army and their army.

EvilSpaceMarine

Posted on October 24, 2011:

That makes only too much sense. Holy shit. I mean, African soldiers are useless as fuck anyway, because they have little to no training and die by droves, so why not put them to use as BAIT for intelligence on the enemy?

But who's ballsy enough to do that? It can't be any of Ghana's military junta; they already fled the country.

Winged_One

Posted on October 24, 2011:

Crimson King hasn't developed his sense of strategy all that well, and the enemy behind Ghana has noticed this. They hope to exploit that.

But they forget that Crimson King will adapt to any situation, and despite what everyone focuses on today, he didn't become the Goblin Slayer because of his zergs.

RealTimeStrategy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 24, 2011:

… I think everyone forgot about that D:

Wait, does that mean he can take command of twenty armies by himself?

That's so fucking OP

Last edited: Dec 24, 2018

172

Akallas von Aerok

Dec 24, 2018

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Threadmarks 5.3 Attempt

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Jan 18, 2019

#647

Previously…

Fearing that Crimson King was a threat that would grow to match Scion, Cauldron gathered its allies and got them all to attack Crimson King. But simply attacking the new warlord wasn't good enough.

And thus Eidolon was sent to disturb the heart of Crimson King's new kingdom...

-x-x-x-

Eidolon stepped through the Door, and stepped onto a world straight out of bio-tinker horror show. In a structure or underground location, he was in a place where the very fabric of the building around him was a breathing living thing.

It disgusted him, but didn't stop him from moving forward.

According to Number Man, there was a flow of numbers that came to gather at the heart of Crimson King's "central hive structure." He had seen images and videos of this structure because Crimson King didn't stop anyone from taking picture of it.

It was a dumb decision.

Eidolon pulled on his powers and chose from them a power he had never used before, because he knew how destructive it was. He grabbed a loose flesh from nearby, activated his power, watched as the flesh begin to pull on itself, and then quickly left.

He grimaced. This power … it reminded him too much of Endbringers, and thus had never used it, not even to fight the Endbringers.

Crimson King, however, warranted its use. He was that big of a threat even within Eidolon's mind. Who knows, though. If Crimson King survives this, then he was truly a Worthy Opponent.

I realized something was wrong one moment, and then I knew something went wrong the next moment.

I watched through the eyes of the clones and duplicates left back at the base as something grew at the center of the base. It devoured the central Hive's flesh and made it its own.

The duplicates at the base immediately separated the place where the infection was growing from the rest of the Hive, and forced everything to move away.

It was too late.

Whatever had started there, and it wasn't mine, had taken in enough biomass and was taking form.

An amorphous thing of mouths, arms, and legs sprung from the mass. I couldn't see it, because I was underground as was this new thing, but I could feel the change it was experiencing through the feels of the flesh walls of the Hive that this creature was pushing against.

I grimaced as I realized just how big it was.

It was thrice the size of Ultralisks… and had a counter against my power. I could feel it. My Power Thief was telling me that this thing possessed the same countermeasure against Strikers like Panacea and I that the Endbringers possessed…

Wait.

Endbringers? Sudden eruption of a new creature in my base where nothing was before except for corridors?

White, hot rage erupted inside of me before I forced myself to contain it.

Eidolon.

Eidolon had to have been at my base. With Contessa and Doormaker's help, there were ways he could infiltrate my base without being seen by any of its security measures.

"THOSE BASTARDS!" all of my duplicates and clones roared angrily.

One of the duplicates rushed towards my masterpiece. It wasn't ready yet, but I was facing what amounted to a pseudo-Endbringer. Even as the other duplicates weaved the Hive into a defensive fortress built to contain a big threat, I knew that it wouldn't be enough. All of the duplicates within the Hive could feel the goddamn power just flowing into the thing even after biomass was no longer being siphoned.

The duplicate entered the masterpiece, and my powers connected with it.

Its eyes opened, and I was it just as it was me.

It was incomplete, though. Even as "I" stood up with the masterpiece, my powers were fixing whatever it could before the confrontation that was about to happen. Muscles grew explosively before condensing to impossible levels. Skins comparable to toughest and most flexible of known tinkertech materials wrapped around the skeletal muscles. Then one of my original powers, manipulation of shadows, came and robed my personalized EVA with void black armor.

Finally, the duplicate turned its attention to the core of this masterpiece.

The S2 Engine, the organ within the core of any Angel or EVA from the Neon Genesis Evangelion franchise. It was a dream of mine to turn that engine, and thus the A.T. field, into the fold of my powers. It was so hard to make, and the reason why this masterpiece was incomplete. The surface, the muscles, the organs, and skeletons were all just makeup. It was the engine that was the true masterpiece.

The duplicate/I gulped as it connected…

And waited.

And hoped.

It activated!

And spluttered out.

I let out a roar of rage even as I brought the incomplete EVA to bear to fight a pseudo-Endbringer within my own base.

I will get Cauldron for it…!

173

Akallas von Aerok

Jan 18, 2019

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Threadmarks 5.4 Triumph over Adversary

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Mar 13, 2019

#676

5.4

The incomplete Eva roared with my own anger as it brought itself to bear in the ruins of my Primary Central Hive Cluster. My enemy, Eidolon's pseudo-Endbringer, rose up from the ruined fleshes of the Hive Cluster. It was almost as big as my Eva, though far bulkier. It stood on four legs with its body at the center of them all. Its abdomen was decorated with cracks and gouges that I knew had no bearing on its ability to fight. Its torso was thrice as thick as my Eva's and had four pairs of arms. Painted from head to toe in red and swirls of grey, it was a towering monstrosity…

But my Eva was not weak. If anything, then it was made to fight the likes of the Endbringers and Scion. It was its purpose, after all. It was, however, incomplete, and in my haste, I had forced an activation upon its S2 Engine… and it failed on it, breaking irreversibly. I would have to shut down my Eva elsewhere and recreate the S2 Engine from the start.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" I roared out in anger from within the Eva, pouring my entire power and being through it.

If my zergs and tyranid used the psionics as a means of communication, identification, and command, then psionic was the foundation of existence for my Eva. Warping the laws of reality to will, not compensating flashy effects like the Shards did with a huge fuckton of energy and calculations, was what I did!

I didn't know at the time, but when I was thinking along these lines and the persistent effect of swarms of zerg/tyranid psionics at work for months, I was putting to use what could only be called the Warp likes of which the Warhammer 40k verse had.

With the power of the warp behind me, I was pushing psionic imprints into all things connected to me. For all of my zerg constructs, this had no effect on them other than strengthening and reinforcing my hold on them. For everyone else, however, they told me that it was like I was there with them, standing over their shoulder with anger and rage that burned like a bonfire in front of their persons. So hot and disturbing that many elderly simply fainted on the spot … nearly fifty kilometers away from the ruins of my destroyed Primary Central Hive Cluster. Parahumans had it the worst. Their powers disconnected from them during what would later be called "Birth of the Fourth Endbringer." The entire region with me at the center of it became a Blindspot zone where outside Thinkers got strokes when they tried to find out what was going on. But my powers? Their limitations and energy deficiencies disappeared as they connected to … whatever was the source of my power. Their simple minds, which only sought data, folded under the torrent of data in the form of my mind and that of the entire zerg swarms.

To put it simply, I hijacked the simple minds of the Shards with my psionics by forcing my will upon them through the unexplainable power that was the Warp.

[Umbrakinetic Construct] shattered the useless and broken S2 Engine at the heart of my Eva. 'It was dead weight anyway,' I thought as crystalline flesh that I gestalted at least a hundred people to make began to break down into liquid, letting out the last screams of the still conscious and suffering people (all of whom were criminals). Then calling upon the tinker shards I have stolen over the months, I began to construct a pseudo S2 Engine, one that would never be good as one properly made, by using my umbrakinetic construct as the form for the construct and then using the Internal Energy Combustion as a quick and dirty fuel source for it.

But Eidolon's pet didn't let me finish. No, the moment it saw me doing something odd, it took its chance to attack. It raised all eight of its arms and pointed their fingers at me. From each finger of the too-long-to-be-human-hands, a ball of light as big as a bowling ball formed, which wasn't even that big on those fingers.

And it fired lasers.

I shouted in pain as the lasers burned into my Eva before quickly constructing an armor of shadow around it. I needed to focus to recreate a S2 Engine copy, however pitiful it would be in comparison to the real deal.

I called upon my zerg and tyranids in my immediate vicinity.

Attack! Attack! Attack! I roared within the swarm's psionic network as I broadcasted the image of the image of what could possibly be the fourth Endbringer, one that would add to the number of existing Endbringers. KILL!

The nearby zergs, numbering in the hundreds of thousands, screeched as my commands urged them onward. Ultralisks, upgraded with better scythes and armor, charged at the front of the massive horde while mutalisks screeched as they circled around the two of us, firing their poisonous bouncing darts at the pseudo-Endbringer. They did no damage, but distracted the thing nonetheless.

I fell back, disappearing into the swarm with my Eva despite the latter's bulky form, and concentrated on recreating a S2 Engine.

Crafting a spherical chamber to house the S2 Engine through crystallization of Eva's flesh.

Synthesizing fuel chamber through hardening of Eva's flesh through weaving of [Unbrakinetic Construct]'s shadowflesh with guidance from [Prehensile Connective Tissue].

Constantly mass producing clones to feed regeneration of Eva's flesh.

Constructing energy pathways from fuel chamber to the rest of the fake S2 Engine.

Partially circumventing normal laws of thermodynamics with Shard computation matrix support and framed by psionic network.

Partially circumventing normal laws of mass generated gravity with Shard computation matrix support and framed by psionic network.

Establishing expansion of Self into the World through the inversion of AT Field.

…

AT Field established.

Shard network stable.

Psionic network stable.

S2 (Fake) Engine complete.

When I opened my eyes again from within the Eva, what I saw made me tear up in anger. While I have been busy upgrading my Eva to fight the pseudo-Endbringer with all of my focus, my zerg swarm had converged upon the Endbringer, throwing their bodies at it to give me time.

And they had.

Bodies of my zergs formed in concentric rings centering on the pseudo-Endbringer. Zerglings still swarmed towards the enemy, only to be mowed down. Hydralisks further out and closer to me fired their spikes and were mowed down just the same. Ultralisks died in front of me, keeping me safe with their bodies. Smoke and smell of burning flesh dominated the air.

I/Eva rose up from my knees and growled.

The pseudo-Endbringer saw me and focused on me. It noticed that something was wrong, and immediately fired all of its lasers at me.

It took less than half a second for the enemy's eight lasers to strike at me, only to be stopped mere meters in front of me by the AT Field that sprung up as if it had always been there. My growl became malicious laughter.

I used [Biological Manipulation] and [Prehensile Connective Tissue], powered by my fake S2 Engine, to grow tentacle stumps all around my shoulder in under a second, grow coiled, space-bending, and crystalline-fleshed tentacles in under two seconds.

"GET THE FUCK OVER HERE!" and shot them out, crossing the distance between me and the enemy in a single second. The tentacles, same color as my dark red Eva, lashed out and grabbed each of the pseudo-Endbringer's wrists, neck, face, legs, and chest.

It roared and tried to rip the tentacles away, but I kept my tentacles strong and taut before tossing it closer to me.

It should have been impossible with how much Endbringers weigh, but I wasn't operating completely on the regular laws of physics right now! The pseudo-Endbringer's eyes widened as it flew against its will, losing its footing on the ground and flying over the bodies of my zergs it killed.

As it came closer to me, I/Eva wrapped myself in [Umbrakinetic Construct] armor. And when it came within my arm's reach, I grabbed it with my claw gauntlet wearing hands and grabbed its thin waist and neck.

"GWWAAAAHHHH!" it roared to my face, generating winds so strong that I felt some zergs being thrown away through the psionic network.

"HAHAHAHA!" I just laughed in its face. Throwing defense to the winds and focusing completely on offense, I forced all of my AT Field into my claws.

Then I began to dig.

The neck came off easily with a single slice of the AT Field. The useless head crashed into the bodies below us. It saw how strong I was and tried to fight back, but it was useless. My tentacles were being reinforced by my AT Fields as well, and I altered them to hold each of the hands in a hollow bubble of AT Field generated by hundreds of tiny protrusions on the tentacle itself.

I saw from the periphery those fingers generate light and fire, only to be blocked by the AT Field. I then shoved my claws deep into its body and ripped it into two halves. It was here that I saw the core at the center of its torso. It was trying to regenerate its flesh quickly, but it was in vain. It was too slow.

I held my hands open and smashed them into the core of the pseudo-Endbringer. Then my psionic network got to work. Like tendrils of swaying, malevolent probes that grew taut at the presence of a victim, the very air around us grew heavy and tense.

Then the core of the pseudo-Endbringer screeched as my psionic network cracked its way through its "mental" defenses, something all sentient beings had but grew only strong from the strength of the mind (something a newborn pseudo-Endbringer would not have). What use did alien mental structure have against the feral instinct of my swarm's psionics? I and my swarm were like a tidal wave of biting and crushing force of will!

What defense did different minds, alien or not, have against the tidal wave that was the swarm?!

My probes dug deeper and deeper into this newborn, subverting everything about it to my will.

The screeching slowly died away, replaced by a hum.

A hum of acknowledgment.

Acknowledgment of hierarchy.

The hierarchy where I was its master and it was my drone, just one among the millions that were my swarm.

It was done.

In under a minute, I had defeated a pseudo-Endbringer.

Satisfied, I looked around with the core still in my hands.

The area was devastated. The Primary Central Hive Cluster was gone, having been blown up in the birth of this new … Endbringer. The cratered area itself was surrounded by the hundred thousand dead bodies of my children. Black smoke and smell of cooked flesh perpetuated the atmosphere like a taint.

It would be a waste to simply leave this place with this mess, not when I could do so much with so much biomass.

My mind connected to this new Endbringer to change it. It would have been impossible without a Shard, but I had both Tinker and Thinker shards by the dozens, all of which had their limits removed and burned by the psionic surge of my creations. Working with these subverted shards and my own psionic network, I changed the new Endbringer's function, form, and command.

Once I was done, I looked upon it for a few seconds … and then dropped it at the top of the dead bodies of my zergs.

Immediately, the core latched onto these dead fleshes like a greedy web, drawing flesh closer to it and molding it as I had ordered it to.

"I will get you, Cauldon," I growled, heaving heavily from the overextension of power, mind, and body. "I will make you rue the day that you decided to cross me…!"

The new Endbringer - no, my new, special child - grew bones, cartilage, organs, muscles, and skin like a video of decaying corpse rewound at top speed. It gained legs to stand on. It gained a hip and waist to support its new torso.

And soon, a Eva rose up from the dust of my dead swarm, powered by the calculations and fuel of an Endbringer Shard but under my complete control. Made in the image of its brief past self and my Eva, a dark green Eva rose up with three pairs of arms and a pair of legs.

And let out an earthshaking roar of my triumph.

200

Akallas von Aerok

Mar 13, 2019

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Threadmarks 6.1 - Her Part, 1

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Mar 21, 2019

#702

6.1

Cauldron was not dumb. They must have known that their plan at the heart of my swarm was going to fail. Why else would they dump all of their resources and favors into doing … this?

I stared out into the dense rainforest of the Niger. Mere hours after Eidolon's dick move, CUI landed troops in Ghana and joined the real body of the Ghanan military that hadn't engaged my swarm in attacking me, and unlike the first Ghanan "army" that I wiped out, they were far more coordinated.

Instead of sending out my new Eva minion or countering their move, I hunkered down instead. If I sent out my most powerful minion, a copy with my personal Eva, or go out there myself, then there was a good chance that they were going to gank me with their entire martial force. With the CUI involved in this and thus more or less telling me that Cauldron had CUI in their pockets, I knew that they were going to be able to field quite the number of capes in their ambush, including CUI's vaunted Strategist. As much as I believed that I was pretty established and strong, there was only so much I could do by myself. Taking on Cauldron plus CUI was definitely out of my current league.

[All swarms are to go into hyper-reproduction], I sent out my command through the zerg's psionic network. Using the leftover zerg remnants, I created new Hives in the crater of my Primary Central Hive Cluster. I watched as the zerg flesh began to morph and grow under the clear West African sky.

Drones that were hiding popped back out of the ground and began to deliver biomass from nearby forests. I used my power to accelerate the growth of plants to ludicrous rates, which the drones would harvest every hour just because of how fast they grew.

Even as I grew my swarm back up, my mind was working on other things. A duplicate appeared next to the "plant growth acceleration" me and began to work on making more Tyranid forms of life into reality. Another duplicate appeared, focusing on the Flood from the Halo series. Another duplicate appeared, but this one entered the Eva, destroyed the fake S2 Engine (burnt out anyways), and began to remake the S2 Engine.

But it was the fifth duplicate whose work was the most important. The fifth duplicate took the command from Us, who noticed the existence of the Warp, and began to mold it, exerting our zerg swarm's psionic network into shaping the Warp to our desires.

To use the zerg swarm's presence as a disruption field …

Disruption of all extradimensional networks.

Cynellivere knew that something was wrong when she lost her psionic connection to the wider network. She was still in command of the swarm put under her care by her father, but the disconnect was there.

She made a snap decision. She commanded her swarm to hug the coast, drones were to morph to hive clusters, and prepare defenses. By the time her defenses were complete in the form of borrowed zerglings and ultralisks, saturation of spine crawlers and spore crawlers all over her base, constantly patrolling groups, and rotation feeding cycle for the swarm from the creep, she was able to reconnect to the psionic network.

And was blasted by the sudden expansion, strength, and absolute fury that she felt from it. The endless desire for more creation had all but almost warped within her Father-Overmind's psyche. All she felt from him was an ever-escalating rage and a need to destroy.

The swarm around her screamed and screeched in a frenzy as they connected with the greater network and felt their father's mind-bending anger, and they were all now itching for a target to vent the same anger that affected them.

Her orders suddenly came.

Her father intended to go to war, but not on their terms.

Oh no, oh no, father thought many ways further than she did when it came to enacting upon this anger. He wanted to ruin his enemies, shatter their core and beliefs.

She saw his plans and awed at them.

It started with a simple yet ingenious plan that she would have never thought of. Even as she marveled at the first plan, she saw other plans being formed. Contingencies, emergencies, counterattack, counter-counterattack, and on and on and on.

And her part in it was clear.

She lifted her head and looked upon the swarm, and sent them all a single order.

"Adapt to the water."

184

Akallas von Aerok

Mar 21, 2019

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Threadmarks 6.2 - Her Part, 2

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Mar 21, 2019

#723

Alright. New Chapter. Don't expect me to answer any comment cuz I now have a five hour class coming up.

Enjoy.

6.2 - Her Part, 2

Her command was absolute within her swarm, and they shrieked as they obeyed her command.

Father-Overmind talked at length about what she and her siblings were. They were created in the image of the fictional creatures called zergs. She and her siblings possessed the fictional zerg's regeneration, their strength, and their adaptability.

'So why don't I use it right now?' she thought to herself whimsically. She watched as her swarm dove into the ocean, devouring local wildlife as they did. Essence of the aquatic animals flowed into the swarm, and she immediately imprinted organs vital to her plans onto her swarm.

She felt gills grow along the top side of her neck and closer to her spider-horse-like lower body. It was only right to have two sets of them for her because of how big and fuel-dependent she was. Her fingers grew fins between them, and her claws widened and thinned. It was a perfect adaptation on her part for swimming.

Her spider-horse-like lower body altered as well. The front leg pair became wider and scaly while the second and third pairs were absorbed back into her body. The rest of the body changed to reflect a more fish-like form. She grew fins and scales as her lower body lengthened until it was thrice its original length yet half as wide as before.

She was ready.

Coiling her now only leg pair, she pushed herself into a jump from where she was inland and dove into the Atlantic Ocean, crossing some fifteen meters to her dive. She swam with the grace of both eel and fish, because technically speaking, she had their essence inside of her - and thus, their instinctual knowledge of swimming. Her swarm joined her. The land hives melted away as their forms changed, and giant whale like hives crawled into the ocean. Zerglings lost their shoulder blades, gaining instead lateral bone fin-blades. Their paws gained the same aquatic adaptations she gained, and soon, a literal horde of carnivorous zergs were swimming through middle Atlantic Ocean.

Now, it was time for Cynellivere to enact her part of her Father-Overmind's plan. He had given her absolute power over the management of the expansion of her swarm…

And what zerg could resist the rich Atlantic Ocean?

Her first order was immediate; West African coast was to be colonized in full. Aquatic drones swam with hundreds of aquatic zerglings. Four major ocean colonies were set up along these places: Cape Verde, Guinea, Sierra Leone, Ghana, and Canaries. Operating mostly at night, they devoured the local wildlife, maintaining what the humans called a "minimum" to prevent their collapse. At the same time, the open oceans between these places were seeded with thousands of photosynthetic "flowers" that converted sunlight, ocean water, and available carbon into biomass. These flowers all connected to central reproduction factories that churned out more of their brethrens.

Her Father-Overmind had not taken advantage of her kind's ability to spawn rapidly, mostly to keep the annoyance that were other humans away from him, but the latest attack had shown that they were incapable of leaving him alone. Her part of the plan that her Father-Overmind told her asked her to completely disregard the previously slow spawn rate and ramp up spawn production to capacity.

So she did.

It took her no less than five days to set her colonies up.

It took her seven more days to quadruple her hive and swarm.

Another four days were spent tripling the already massive swarm.

And on the seventeenth day since Father-Overmind was attacked by the humans, she acted.

Cynellivere watched through the eyes of Zoanthromorphs, another one of Father-Overmind's imitation-creation, the advance of her incursion swarm. Composed of roughly four million smaller zergs and tenth that much larger zergs as well as five hundred hive-whales, they were fifth of her new, much larger swarm, and their purpose was simple.

To invade into the body of water known as the Mediterranean Sea and set up new hives there where biomass was even greater.

But to go there, they had to pass through a place called Strait of Gibraltar…

And the humans weren't stupid. They had noticed her expansion and growth. They rightfully feared her swarm.

Her swarm approached them from the ocean, ten kilometers off the coast of Northern Africa and only fifteen kilometers away from the place known as Strait of Gibraltar.

Her Zoanthromorphs warned her of the human warships and capes in the area.

She ordered the swarm to push on.

The humans fired! Their weapons of war, massive tubular things that swam rapidly, crawled towards them. She knew what they were. They were explosives known as torpedoes.

Without her command but as she had designed them, hive whales opened their dorsal clamps. From under each of those released clamps, eyeless, mouthless, and echolocating aquatic bio-missiles swam out on their own, looking for anything that didn't have their brethren's rhythmic bio-signature.

Her bio-missiles found the torpedoes, and even as the rest of the swam slowed down and around the explosives, they charged straight in and smashed head on.

The explosions underwater shook her zerg but did nothing more; all of them had been evolved to ensure that no form of shock would so easily disturb them.

The humans moved more rapidly. They fired more of their torpedoes.

But it was too late, because while they only released few dozen at a time, each release from her hive whales released hundreds of her bio-missiles. While they did less damage than torpedoes, there were more of them.

Cynellivere watched in satisfaction as her bio-missiles struck the human metal ships and punches a dozen holes into each of them. Faster zergs swam and penetrated into those ships through the holes, and the humans were too busy fighting for their lives to stop their ships from sinking.

Their capes moved in to fight, but it was here that she used her Father-Overmind's gift of creation.

The Zoanthromorph screeched.

And every single human parahuman in a kilometer radius centering on her aquatic Zoanthromorph collapsed, bleeding from every orifice as their connection to their parasitic power was cut and their brain suffered critical damage.

If she had one, then she might have saved it. Unfortunately for the humans, she had a hundred of them.

And she watched with glee as her swarm swam pass the Strait of Gibraltar, now decorated with the dying human metal ships and even deader humans.

It was a glorious victory for the Swarm!

176

Akallas von Aerok

Mar 21, 2019

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Threadmarks 6.3 - Her Shame, 3

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Mar 28, 2019

#760

6.3 - Her Shame, 3

The fact was delivered with such seriousness that someone thought it was a joke at first.

"You're joking, right?"

United Nations had gathered today to discuss the alarming spread of the Crimson King, who was slowly becoming more known for his second title, the Swarmlord. Yesterday, the British Royal Navy and the Spanish Navy as well as available capes of the National Parahuman Defense Guild fought the ocean-adapted portion of Swarmlord's zergs, and suffered catastrophic losses. Destroyers, cruisers, and frigates that sought to prevent the swarm's move into the Mediterranean were sunk by biological missiles and all capes present for the battle were Trumped by unknown means.

This scared people. It scared a lot of people across all walks of life. The faithful believers of the nationalized cape teams and institutions were horrified by the fact that capes could be disabled so easily by what amounted to less than 10% of the true swarm. Capes were scared of losing their powers and being helpless on the path of the zerg. The politicians and elites were scared because even if the zergs did nothing to their countries, the ecological and social upheaval were sure to up end many of them.

It was, however, the last group of people who came to the rescue of others. The group so neglected before this event and had been neglected for the last decades.

The militaries.

They saw the battle and analyzed them as they would have. They saw how the enemies countered torpedoes. They saw the hull breaches. They saw the slaughter onboard the few vessels that were unfortunate enough to be close to the swarm. Yet they were not discouraged. Instead, they developed counters, researched potential weaknesses, and trained.

It was to the surprise of the world that the next battle human military engaged with the zerg … was led by the Italians.

"They declared war upon us by taking away the livelihood of our people! They take our fish and people! Let's see how they like taking our lead!" -Prime Minister of Italy Giovani de Danio

Just off the southern coast of Sicily was the Sea of Sicily, and it was through here that Cynellivere and her swarm swam to their destination. On their way, they devoured a third of everything. No coast was left unharmed. No seabed was left untouched. As they swam, the swarm left a trail of blood and torn flesh, growing more and more numerous.

But the true biomass generators were the mobile biomass generators, the flower-like biomachines. They filtered the seawater for all kinds of nutrients, going so far as to scoop up sands from shallow seas, and spat out globules of biomass that other zergs would move around as the swarm needed them to be moved around.

It should have been a quiet day of prosperous growth. After all, she and the swarm had defeated the human metal boats with ease and downed their parahumans with nothing but a flick of a mental button.

Unfortunately, humans were too suicidal to just leave them be.

It started with a whine.

The surface dwellers of her nomadic swarm heard the sound and searched for the cause. It wasn't like the whine of a seabird, a usually tasty treat.

No, when they found it, they didn't recognize it.

Cynellivere, however, did recognize what it was when it touched the water and exploded.

Hive Cluster is under attack!

Her Zoanthromorphs blared their senses, serving as both radar and anti-parahuman measure. As their "radar" spread out, so too did her sense through them.

And that's when she realized her mistake. Unlike her Father-Overmind, she underestimated the humans and allowed their set-up ambush on the very isle she ignored in favor of devouring the sealife.

Cynellivere screeched underwater, not knowing what to do with about the burning shame she felt within her chest.

She quickly forced herself to calm down. Allowing her emotions to override her would result in more losses-.

Muted explosions shook through the water.

She ground her serrated teeth.

[Left wing's zerglings, attack the enemy on the island!]

Just like that, a fifth of her entire swarm detached from the left wing and swam rapidly towards the isle called Sicily. Though they weren't as fast as the mechnical boats, they were faster than most marine life of their size. Their streamlined bodies made water split and curve away from them, boost their speed as the water came back to give them push in the form of pressure, and made their fins work even better.

Still, this didn't protect them from the human bombardment.

Cynellivere saw through the eyes of her zerglings. It was true that a lot of carapace had to be removed from zerglings in favor of reduced weight, water repellent scales, and streamlined body, and this reduced carapace thickness was working against her, unlike before.

Because the humans had opted to fire their weapons through air rather than water, she couldn't deploy her hive whales and their anti-explosive worms as counter.

[Hydralisks, to the surface! Fire into the air en masse!]

Hydralisks swam up to the surface. They broke through the water surface and they fired their spines.

Her aquatic hydralisks could fire five spines were minute, and with a hundred thousand of them, she could fire five hundred thousand per minute.

Soon, the human explosions happened in air, where the spines intercepted the weapons, and the zerglings made it to the shore.

Where upon they stepped on hidden land mines.

To Cynellivere, each ta-clungk was a herald to half a dozen of her zerglings dying or being injured. They rang like death knell, because they were death knell to her zerglings.

But she had two million zerglings. What could a few hundred explosions do in the face of a million?!

To her horror, humans could do more. Their metal airships began to fire upon them from afar, far further than the range of her hydralisks. Then their metal beasts appeared along cliffs and began to fire. Her zerglings died from all sides but the sea.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" she roared in rage.

Less than an hour into the battle, she ordered all of her swarm to retreat to deeper water.

New York Times

Italian military celebrates world's first victory against Crimson King's swarm! Less than a hundred casualties while inflicting half a million deaths!

169

Akallas von Aerok

Mar 28, 2019

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Threadmarks 6.4 - Her Part, 4

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Apr 1, 2019

#801

6.4 - Her Part, 4

Cynellivere brooded deep within the heart of her swarm, surrounded by recovering swarm. Despite the damages done to the swarm, it was nothing, and her wisely stored biomass was able to quickly recuperate the parts of the swarm she lost within the day.

No, this wasn't about the swarm or the damage the humans inflicted upon her swarm. This was about her failure. This was her first ever failure, and it drove her mad as her mind imagined her Father-Overmind's disapproval. More than the humans, the swarm, and her own self, disappointing her Father-Overmind took up the forefront of her mind.

She didn't know what to do.

Her body trembled as she had nightmares of her Father-Overmind's wrath at her failure.

But eventually, she had to report her failure to her Father-Overmind. She reached out with her psionic strength, weaved through the network, and touched the metaphorical sleeve of her Father-Overmind's psionic presence.

Nelly? Her Father-Overmind's call came through as a question. Why are you upset?

I … suffered a defeat, Father-Overmind.

Oh. What happened?

I was - she provided him image of the general location of her swarm at the time of the battle, which was off the coast of Sicily - and was attacked by the humans. I ordered for an attack, however, the humans were ready for the swarm. They attacked us from all sides on land, and I was forced to call a retreat to deep waters.

I see. Why does that make you upset?

… I failed you?

So?

But I failed you.

I don't see how that should affect your performance or upset you so much.

But … but I failed you. I couldn't do what I was created for.

And how many battles have you won in my name? How big have you made your swarm in my name?

Many.

Is your swarm completely dead? It does not seem so from here.

No. It is recovering.

Then you are okay.

But how is my failure alright?

Cynellivere, your achievements weigh far more than a single minor failure. But I understand that you are … angry at your own failure. Upturn that failure into a success then to assuage your anger.

How?

She felt her Father-Overmind cackle even from across the network.

Why, we adapt!

How?

Nelly, we have this creature called mutalisks, right? Have you thought to use it? Or make versions of it that would be more water friendly?

… Oh.

Yup! Here, let me help you.

And just like that, Father-Overmind crossed hundreds of miles and spawned one of his duplicates right next to her without needing biomass. Just seeing it happen reminded her of how inferior she was in comparison to him. Here was someone who could destroy this entire world if he wanted to, but instead, he took the time to help her.

Instead of anger and misery, Cynellivere now only felt embarrassment as her inferior swarm was laid out before her Father-Overmind.

Not bad, not bad, she heard him speak through the network. One of the zerglings swam casually up to the Swarmlord and brushed its spiny fins against his hand. You wanted to gather biomass as much as possible, didn't you? I see that you compensated most of the carapace for better speed and agility.

She nodded, awed by how easily he discerned the changes she made. It took him only a single brush of his hand to see everything!

He hummed, both physically underwater and through the psionic network. Ah, Nelly, come see this. Obeying him, she swam closer and when he extended his hand, gesturing for her hand, she gave her hand. He took her hand and showed her through his psionic power images into her brain.

See here?

… No.

The scale making epidermis here is using more material than it should. The body of the aquatic zergling itself is too bulky, too. It maintains too much of the terrestrial zergling.

I thought it would have been best to balance the aquatic essence and the original essence you used, Father-Overmind.

Hmm. For what reason?

Because it's what you created. I couldn't completely remove it, even if I wanted to. It would be saying that you were incorrect.

But you do remember that the zergling I designed was specifically for land combat, yes?

Yes.

Show me what you would have done if you didn't stick to my designs. Start from scratch if you want to.

Very reluctantly, she showed him the full scope of changes she would have implemented (or rather, created a whole new zerg organism) for her ideal aquatic build if it wasn't for her desire to stick to her Father-Overmind's creations.

Ho~. Very interesting. Why haven't you used this yet? It's clearly superior to the aquatic zerglings you are keeping around.

I didn't want to waste the biomass of the swarm you gave me, Father-Overmind.

I appreciate the sentiment, Nelly, but you should go for the designs that suit you the best for the situation. Okay?

… Okay.

Good. Now, let's see this one as well. We can slim down on its dorsal bulk and give it more...

Italian's success galvanized other militaries around the world.

Here was the Italians, who were supposed to be of the inferior quality of army quality and professionalism, and yet they had defeated the one enemy(debated) of humanity, Swarmlord's northern swarm, which was being called "Sea Lions" colloquially on the internet. The people didn't forget that the very same Sea Lions were responsible for destroying the navies stationed at Strait of Gibraltar as well as the parahuman capes that were sent to help.

Soon, a movement began, started by the people, to once and for all take care of the monsters that plagued Africa. This movement happened in Paris, New York, and London. News media covered it all, and the governments were ready to respond as their peoples wished.

… If it wasn't for the next battle.

On December 2nd, 2011, the Northern Swarm came back to strike at Sicily.

Major Stefano del Cronale grimaced as the zergs came again, but unlike last time, when they had the initiative in the broad daylight, the zergs had attacked during the darkest hour of the night. Despite the five dozen floodlights showing the swimming zergs far in the distance, the lack of light unnerved the major.

Then the zergs stopped just outside the range of the artillery, which he was in charge of.

"This is Major del Cronale, the enemy has stopped outside the range of the artillery. Can you confirm?" he radioed to the radar station.

"[Confirmed, major. Reporting to command.]"

"Copy." He pulled the radio off his face and looked out to the ocean, wondering why the zergs would cause so much ruckus only to stop like this.

He looked up to the sky briefly. It was a new moon tonight, so there was no natural light to help them. It was for this reason that the navy was on the other side of the island, making sure that no zerg would be able to jump onto them with the darkness as their cover. It was a good decision, but it also robbed them of the ability to hit the enemy from afar because unlike land artillery, the navy was a mobile artillery platform.

It also didn't help that with the advent of naval supremacy in the late 20th century and then the following rise of parahumans, artilleries were given less and less budget for both maintenance and research and development.

He paused, and his current train of thought was dropped in exchange for "what was that?"

Despite the lack of a moon, there were still lights around the island of Sicily, whether it was from the floodlights or other sourc-.

There! There were figures in the sky!

"I need floodlights in the sky!" he shouted. "UFOs!"

A third of the floodlights obeyed his command, and they pulled up.

And everyone on the ground gawked in horror.

What they thought were clouds was a living and breathing storm of zergs.

As soon as they were discovered, the zerg flyers dived bombed.

"FIRE INTO THE SKY!" he roared. "Short fuse, I need midair detonation!"

The artillery crews worked, but it was too slow in comparison to the zergs. In less than fifteen seconds, which was three-quarters of the time needed to properly reposition the artillery guns and the tanks, the flyers zoomed down .. and didn't slow down.

The first flyer to land did so with a skull crunching dive, and then blew up.

"Command, zerg flyers are suicide bombers! I repeat-" the major shouted into the radio, but it was too late for him.

He saw the open jaw of one of those dive bombers and then he was gone in an plume of gore, acid, and explosion.

With the artilleries silenced and the Italians having to fight for their very lives, they were unable to stop the advance of the zerglings.

The Italian air force tried, they fucking tried to save their comrades, but they too were fighting for their lives the moment they entered the battlefield. If the army was fighting against suicide bombers from the sky, then the air force -and particularly, its gun ships - were weaving to save themselves from the assault from below.

The floodlights had all pointe skyward to provide better lighting for the guns on the ground, but this left them completely unaware of the new zergs breaking the surface of the water. Floating on recently inflated fleshy flower petals, these completely alien zergs shoved their tube-like mouths into the air, locked onto the airships with the guidance of the Zoanthromorphs, and fired their Seeker Spores.

The first ariship struck was a jet, and the single seeker spore exploded and sheered off its left wing. The pilot's frantic mayday split the attention of the command, but by then, it was too late. Even without the floodlights, seeker spores rising by the hundreds was all too easy to see, especially for those men on the beach.

A particularly slow gunship took seven hits and exploded in the sky.

And with the light provided by the explosion, the horror of the invasion became all too clear to see. The zergs that had waited outside the artillery ranges swam as fast as they could, forming waves upon waves of flesh that landed on the beaches of Sicily. The seeker spores glowed green in the light of the explosions, and the Italian soldiers would later describe them as "deadly and silent fireworks."

But what caught the most attention was that of a hulking figure that rose out of the water and began to walk on land. This creature was something everyone had seen during the Endbringer battle of Brockton Bay.

An ultralisk.

The giant creature pulled its scythes apart and screeched mightily into the night, heralding a nightmare.

Private Enrico Madavelle roared as he thrust his bayonet forward, catching a zergling in the throat. Even as it bled profusely from its stabbed neck, the creature screeched and swiped at Enrico, and he screamed as one of the claws chunked his shoulder. He fell backward, and the bayonet pulled out from his fall. The zergling growled but had no strength. It took one step then two before it collapsed forward on the ground.

Sobbing and grunting, Enrico scrambled up with his rifle still in his hands and looked around.

All around him, other soldiers were fighting for their lives. The center was broken. Enemies were everywhere. No support was coming (WHAT SUPPORT COULD COME THROUGH THIS?!). No reinforcement was coming (who was mad enough to fight them?).

He was going to die here.

Oh God, he was going to die here and become some animal's meal of the day.

[Desti-]

{SCCCCRRREEECCCCHHHHHH}

[ERRO-]

Something snapped within his mind. It wasn't the connection of a shard; a shard had tried to connect, but the Shadow in the Warp had blocked its access. All it did was open up a path for something else to connect to Enrico. Driven by stress and survival instinct, and with a part of his mind open to outside influence, particularly that of the psionic network and Shadow in the Warp exuding from the zergs...

Enrico Madavelle awoke his innate psionic potential, and in a instinctual desire to protect him, blasted the zergling jumping at him with a burst of psionic lightning. His mind burned as things that he never felt was now being processed by his very mind. He wept as he saw in the distance one of his friends get gutted and watched in horror as something ethereal was sapped from his friend's body.

'They're eating our souls.'

Enrico cried in horror, and his mind snapped out, fueled unconsciously by his torrent of emotions. But as he saw his own gloved hands reaching out, striking out lightning upon the zerglings, his agony became rage.

Rage fueled his power.

And power released him from his fears.

Enrico no longer cried out.

He roared against death. He roared as he became the focal point of a psionic storm. He didn't notice his body begin to burn with purple fire. Lightning danced like the fairies in fairy tales.

"I-!"

He took a step forward, and PUNCHED a hydralisk in the face. His fist, coated in the same purple fire, punched through the carapace and the skull, and blew the back spine out like a sniper bullet.

"-WILL-!"

The soldiers around him saw him, one of their own, and rallied. "To Enrico! To Enrico!"

"-NOT-!"

Enrico screamed, unaware of the fact that his arms were gone now, replaced by unstable and weaving cords of lightning. He grabbed a zergling by the neck - now half as big as before a corner of his mind realized - and burned it.

"DIE!"

Lightning flew from him, but never struck his comrades. Soldiers formed circles around him. The wounded found themselves shooting from the center of this circle, using whatever arms they had to hold even a pistol to shoot between the legs of their standing comrades.

More soldiers made their way to them. The circle grew and bullets flew like sideways rain.

Ammunition ran out, and the soldiers began to fight with shredded zerg claws. Sometimes sweating and dirty soldiers arrived with boxes of ammunition.

Enrico held, but his legs were gone now. He stood on flimsy looking cords of lighting, and body was starting to chip and burn away.

And then it was over.

The zergs had all moved on, ignoring this small pocket of unassailable human soldiers.

The soldiers looked on in shock.

They lived.

Enrico, seeing the danger pass, passed out, falling into the arms of his comrades. The lightning around him disappeared and his limbless body fell to the floor.

And so, the first human archon was born amidst fire, claws, and flesh.

"Human battalions have been annihilated," Cynellivere said, reveling in the destruction of those who had shamed her. "Let the rest flee with their lives. Let them tell tales of horror that we, the Swarm, can bring unto anyone who blocks our path."

And so, her swarm left the island, its southern shores devastated by the battle, dragging the dead bodies, trees, and metals into the waters with them.

6.5 - Her Part, 5, End.

In the end, her revenge attack upon the humans, while necessary for the installation of the fear of the Swarm into the minds and hearts of the humans, had cost her more than it cost the humans; she was able to only replace a third of the dead zergs from the biomass she collected the battlefield and immediate area around it.

'Passive farming mode,' she had commanded.

As a result, weeks after what the humans called "Second Battle of Sicily," her swarm was slowly drifting towards the richer feeding grounds in this sea that the humans called "Mediterranean." They continued on with their normal biomass generating activities, recycling minerals and decayed biomass in the ocean, gathering solar energy and converting atmospheric carbon into biomass, and - surprisingly - recycling wasted carbon floating as microparticles in the water and larger hollow shells on the water. Truly, humans did not know of their own wastes and how useful it was to her swarm.

Oh, humans think these "plastics" are harmful to the swarm, but what are poisons but another obstacles to be overcome and broken down to become part of the swarm? Plastic was just another source of carbon for her swarm, and these foolish humans were providing her with resource everyday with their own inability to regulate waste.

Foolish, foolish, foolish.

Cynellivere also found out that she enjoyed roaming with her swarm in such a vast ocean, picking out new strains useful and some not. She enjoyed hunting after these things called "sharks" and "dolphins," especially the latter. They were smart, and provided good essence for intelligence. The sharks were more primal, though this was not without its good parts.

The water was getting colder. Her destination lay closer.

Bzzt.

New instructions from father?

…

'Your will be done, father,' she spoke through the psionic network, and received her father's acknowledgement.

The plan had been to move upstream towards an area of the largest continent on this world, an area known as the Siberia. The plan was to devour all biomass existing in that place nad turn it into a wasteland where only the zerg may survive.

The plan changed. Instead of taking over the large and cold frontier that was Siberia, she was head back and out of the feeding ground that was the Mediterranean and move up north to an area between a large island and the continent currently to her north.

And when the time was right, she would strike at the islands of Great Britain.

-x-x-x-

Ending the Cynellivere's Meditterranean Rampage Arc

121

Akallas von Aerok

May 19, 2019

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Threadmarks 7.1 - Further African Conquest

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Ice Cream Shop Manager IRL

Jun 20, 2019

#832

For months, I gathered my strength.

I sent Cynellivere and her hive north while the primary Swarm and I ate away everything in West Africa. Anything that didn't submit was consumed and broken down to fuel the Swarm. West Africa, however, wasn't enough to fuel the Swarm.

My Swarm broke through the CUI-reinforced West African states and moved into Central Africa, and through there, the biomass rich jungles of Central Africa.

Oh, the CUI harassed my hive constantly. They used everything from conventional PR maneuvers and suicide bombers. None of those really worked when I gave absolutely zero shits about PR - I was a literal hive of monsters - and bombers - the psionic network was good at figuring out intent.

So the CUI now poured most of their effort on physical stopping the advance of my Swarm.

Not that it worked.

With a chunk of West Africa's biomass converted into my zergs, the Shadow in the Warp generated by my Swarm grew in proportion. Because of this, the entirety of West Africa was a parahuman-free zone, because even if there were parahumans, they were as powerless as their mundane brothers and sisters. Of course, this also prevented anyone from using parahumans against me wherever my Swarms were.

An ultralisk's earth trembling roar shook the world around me, and brought me out of my chain of thoughts.

A big chunk of the Swarm directly under my command and I battled the CUI field army in Cameron-Nigeria border. A mere week ago, Nigeria had fallen to me in a massive zergling rush that got me control over most of the nation within said week. The CUI and local armies were deployed and trying their damnedest to stop my advance deeper into the jungle, but it was for naught. Their navies had attempted to support them, but after I copied a few of Cynellivere's adaptations into my own zergs and set them loose on the modern warships and sunk carriers and battleships with ease, no one wanted to challenge me at sea.

"... Is that the Germans?"

I was looking yet not looking. To be more precise, my eyes were here looked at the battlefield in Central Africa, but I was focused on the visions given to me through the psionic network by a squad of zerglings patrolling the coast of Senegal near the port city of Dakar.

"No, not just Germans. It's the whole NATO," I grumbled. I thought about what I should do. I wanted to strike at the impudent idiots, to show them just what they were messing with, but I didn't want to risk fighting a two front war by retreating from Nigeria. I also needed to break through and get to Cameron and its jungles.

So proud, so fucking cocky, so assured that they had a chance of victory.

Ha! Did Cynellivere wasting the Spanish and the British at the Strait of Gibraltar teach them nothing?!

… If I couldn't be there, then someone else would have to be. It couldn't be Cynellivere. Oh no, I had a special task for her. Speaking of which, I should tell her to do that special task instead of ruminating on it.

"Cynellivere," I spoke through the network, watching the biggest ultralisk carve through the trenches and other barriers towards the tanks the CUI and Cameron armies deployed. The tanks tried to flee from the giant charging through trenches and trees alike, but they were slow and the ultralisk was not. It was upon them and I watched in glee as tanks flattened underneath its feet and fly when struck by the curved hooks.

{Yes, Father-Overmind?}

"I need you to leave the Meditterranean and head up north through the Atlantic. There is a nation called United Kingdom on the islands of Great Britain. When I call for you, I need you to waste their capital city."

{You will shall be done, Father-Overmind.}

Cynellivere was right now my favorite child. So very dedicated and smart, if a little fatalistic at times.

Now, as for the NATO…

Hmm.

You know what? I had another child I've been kind of ignoring (oops).

"Zayin," I called once again through the network.

{Yes?!}

I chuckled. Zayin must have been surprised to have been called by me. I was actually surprised she managed to survive the battle between me and the pseudo-Endbringer. I had her serve as my representative to the locals who submitted to me, but now I had a more direct need of her.

"I need you to lead the seventh and eighth defense Swarm and eradicate the humans in Senegal. You will receive information about them soon through the network."

{A-Am I ready such a role, Father-Overmind?}

Though Zayin showed confidence to outsiders, she always questioned herself when alone with me, which was odd. She was a skilled assassin and diplomat. I saw no reason why she wouldn't be able to.

"I believe you are. You may take your youngest brother with you if you believe that you won't have enough firepower."

Considering that the seventh and the eighth defense Swarm totaled five hundred thousand zergs and zerg-tyranid hybrids, I really didn't she'd need it. It could be, however, that she needed emotional support of having someone with her.

Again, I didn't understand why an assassin/diplomat would need support, but that's how some of my children were.

{Very w-well. I shall deliver to the best of my abilities, Father-Overmind.}

Hmm. Good.

"Damn it!" Zayin hissed to herself. "I can't get father to look at me!"

"At least you have his attention," her older brother, Voyak, grumbled.

"Hmph!"

"Oh, they're done with the coalition army," I mumbled to myself as I saw my zergs overwhelm the last of the CUI-Cameron army bases in the distance while the isolated units in the jungles found themselves hunted down one by one.

I guess my path to Cameron jungles was now open.

"Hu hu hu," I chuckled maliciously. "So much free biomass…"

Ah, what should I design this time? I had most of the zerg units, so I should focus on tyranid units. I had biovores and zoanthropes, so maybe I should work on more common unit types like the tyranid warriors or gaunts...


	5. darkhpjumpsingle

1000 cp

Fanfic:

Generic Tropes (locked)

Location:

Hut-on-the-Rock, July 31st, 1991.

Origin:

Dark - Contrary to the name you would be better described as self-serving, opportunistic, and ambitious. Misdirection, deception, and manipulation are your bywords and working through proxy, subtlety, and plans within plans your modus operandi. Your general goals are often aimed at the accumulation of personal power, wealth, influence, and prestige… but not always. While you are not required to wear them leather pants are traditional. Acting like the edgiest edge lord that ever edged is entirely optional.

Scenario:

The Jumper-Who-Lived (locked) (+500 cp) (1500)

Perks:

Drawbacks:

Dumbledorean Troubles (+200 cp) (1700) - Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, takes far too much of an interest in your life. He likes to keep tabs on you, and keep an eye on where you go and what you do, even when he really doesn't have any reason to.

Dark Lord's Target (+300 cp) (2000) - Dark Lord's Target - Okay, what happened? Somehow, you've made enemies of the Dark Lord Voldemort, who now considers you his most important target in priority right after Harry and Dumbledore. Death Eaters will dog your steps, dementors will attack you, as will anything else he can throw at you.

Durzkaban Inmate (+600 cp) (2600) - Ookay. So...um, let's talk about your family. They're kind of...troubling, simply put. For 300 CP, your parents/guardians are really incompetent. They don't know the first thing about raising a child/teenager, and they're too stupid to learn. They don't remember to feed you properly, they forget to pick you up from Platform 9 3/4 , they're just too neglectful to count as 'parents'.

For another 300 CP, they're actively trying to hurt and/or kill you, maybe for your inheritance or maybe for some other reason. They will deliberately try to starve you to death, beat you up with a belt, whip you, hit you with frying pans...and those are the less unsavory things they try. This hole goes deep indeed, Jumper. Careful before you jump.

Squib (+400 cp) (3000) - Oookay, what possessed you to choose to do this? Not much to say here, really. For 400 CP, you lose all your powers gained from before this jump, the warehouse is locked, etc, etc.

Perks:

Local Magic (free) - The magic system of whatever fanfic you're going to. This is almost always a variant of the Harry Potter magic system, so any and all magic you learn is fully compatible with that.

Merlin Returned (Capstone Booster) (600 cp) (2400) - There were ancient tales of your coming, Jumper. Actually, wait, no. There weren't. But there should have been. You were born to greatness, and this reflects in everything you do. Magic is second nature to you.

While you don't get any skill or knowledge innate with this perk, nor any gifts or talents that pass down bloodlines or through rituals, you now have limitless talent in every single branch of magic apart from these limitations.

Besides that, you are a genius at learning magic too, mastering years' worth of material in days and weeks without even stressing yourself. This growth continues indefinitely, never slowing no matter what.

Your grasp of magic and its theoretical framework is such that you can manipulate the very nature of it, and do so with an almost contemptuous ease. You can take apart spells, rituals or even entire magic systems, and put them back together in whatever different arrangement you like, even in entirely new magic systems of your own. Even altering spells in real time is second nature to you, changing their effects, size, scope, everything. As is coming up with entirely new pieces of magic, with due research and innovation.

Finally, to fuel all this, your 'Magical Core', per se, is proportionately vast. You have a humongous amount of magic at your fingertips, stretching far and beyond any known metrics well into the realm of legends like Merlin and the Founders.

This perk follows you in the future too, providing you all of these effects in any and all magic you

become able to do. This perk is a capstone booster, meaning that it serves to enhance each of the

origin capstones in their own ways. The interactions are mentioned alongside the respective

perks.

Luck of the Devil (300 cp) (2100) - You're lucky. Indeed, it might be fair to say you have the devil's own luck. Or rather, fanfic Harry Potter's own luck. Ordinary shops hold great treasures that only you come across. People always have useful, nice things that they are willing to give away just out of the blue.

Old kingdoms desperately need heirs just when you come across them, witches and wizards tend to leave you fortunes in their wills. Tombs that have been explored a thousand times just happen to reveal new secrets when you're around. Unless your enemy made sure you were hit and then double-tapped to be sure, nine times out of ten chances are you're just injured.

Supernaturally Attractive (100 cp) (2000) - You're sexy. You may be a Veela, able to ensnare anyone you want with your allure, or you may be a demon like a succubus or incubus, but whatever the case, the fact of the matter is that you're incredibly, unbelievably beautiful. Not just that, but you have a certain... something about you. It might be an allure, or it might be a demon "lust aura", but you find people of your preferred gender going weak-kneed with just a whiff of it, and they might just go crazy if you really focus it on them.

It makes picking up partners trivial and easy, and if you want you could live an easy life full of hedonism for the rest of your days. Also, you have all the endurance you need in bed, meaning you will never leave your partner, or partners, unsatisfied no matter who or what they may be or how many of them might be there.

Finally, your love life tends to remain peaceful, at least most of the time. If you have just one partner then both of you have an instinct for just what the other would like and superhuman patience towards each other. And if you're the Harem sort of guy, you find your partners get along extraordinarily well, agreeing to 'share' you far too easily, even developing relationships among each other at times.

Either way, you have phenomenal performance in bed, having the endurance of twenty men and a degree of skill that would leave Giacomo Casanova frantically taking notes and declaring that he's not worthy.

Gifted - Parsel-Magic (200 cp) (1800) - The branch of magic depending on Parseltongue to use, which you also now have, this gives you a variety of useful skills. Firstly, spells cast in Parseltongue are naturally more powerful than normal spells, and in certain cases can only be broken with counters spoken in Parseltongue.

More than that, you're able to naturally command snakes of all kinds, who honor and revere you as a 'Speaker', and will, indeed, cannot disobey you barring absolutely extreme conditions. Magical snakes can resist this somewhat and it comes down to a contest of wills, but you have an immense advantage.

Gifted - Mind Magic (200 cp) (1600) - You have mind magic! Not only are you a whiz with obliviation and related magic, but you're a natural Occlumens and Legilimens, which both have their own uses. Your natural Occlumens and Legilimens abilities start out incredibly formidable, akin to someone who's spent years studying them. With some work you could be a master.

Mastery in occlumency comes with an eidetic memory and perfect control over all your tells, to the extent that no one can tell when you're lying. It also lets you make a Mind Palace, and enhances your ability to recall your memory massively, so that eidetic memory can be of some actual use.

Similarly, mastering legilimency allows you to almost instinctively tell when someone is lying, and also makes you a tremendously skilled cold reader. You're also a dab hand with spells like compulsions, the confundus and the Imperius.

Finally, once you've developed your talents enough to acquire all of these abilities, by combining them you become able to rip skills and knowledge straight out of people's heads. It takes less time and effort the more you practice it, but eventually taking mere seconds to seamlessly copy entire lives' worth of knowledge and skills without the target even knowing it is possible, though it'll take a lot of work.

Pureblood Etiquette (free Dark) - Manners Maketh Man. Those of higher status or purer blood should act like it, no? You find you have an impeccable understanding of social norms and etiquettes, knowing just the right way to treat everyone higher, equal and lower in status to you at all times. You're at home in any high-level gatherings, and will never be caught wearing the wrong cut of robes.

Aside from being able to make good impressions with the people you interact with, others will always assume you to be a person of high breeding and class unless they have specific evidence otherwise. Even the snootiest pureblood wouldn't suspect you of being muggleborn with this (assuming you were a muggleborn, of course).

Manipulative! (100 cp, discount Dark) (1500) - Manipulative! - Sometimes it can be difficult to get people to do what you want. They have all these pesky things, morals and whatnot. But you could squeeze water out of a stone, metaphorically at least. You have a gift for knowing what to say and what to do to get people to do whatever you want. You know all the right words to pull their strings, press their buttons and achieve your targets with them.

This doesn't just work on people either. Age old beings, demons and gods and eldritch entities and everything in between are only slightly more difficult than ordinary people for you to influence. Your ability to weave deceptions and create plans based on your manipulations is also bolstered and while not foolproof your plans mix just the right level of simplicity and complexity that it's unlikely they'll be discovered or interrupted barring random chance, so long as you take the time to cover all your bases.

Modern Day Alexander (200 cp, discount Dark) (1400) - You have the skills of a modern day conqueror, a warlord and wizard extraordinaire. You can dredge up ancient grudges, remind people of old injustices or just straight up invent causes, but either way you know just how to get people to do what you want, and let you lead them to good and ill.

And once you do lead them, you find yourself utterly superb at it. Instead of your charisma being hollow like it is for so many others you actually have excellent leadership and planning skills, to the extent that you could orchestrate the fall of governments as a teenager.

Finally, you have a gift for using magic in wars. It doesn't matter if it's the first time it's being used or the five thousandth, you find your skills at determining the best time and place for the best types of magic to be absolutely impeccable.

Dark Lord (300 cp, discount Dark) (1100) - Dark Lord - There is no such thing as Good or Evil, only Power and those too weak to seek it. You know the truth of this, and you. are. not . weak! Magic is a great and wonderful thing, and among its greatest uses is its breathtaking capacity for harm.

You know this, which is why you're so good at this. You are one of the best at fighting with magic in the world, period. Formal dueling, casual combat or just a magical brawl, you're very, very good at all three. More than just good, you're utterly brilliant. Your reflexes, your breadth of knowledge and just your sheer skill leaves the likes of Voldemort and Dumbledore gaping.

But more than conventionally used battle-magic, you have the gift of being able to turn any spell into a combat spell. It might require creative application, or it may require some editing of the spell's wand movements or incantations or whatever, but you have an instinctive grasp for the potential in combat of any spell, and know just how to bring it out to maximum effect.

(Capstone Boosted) Fighting using magic is one thing. Maybe a good thing, maybe a bad thing, who knows? And really, who cares? Because you can go far, far beyond fighting with magic. You can wage a War with magic.

Your abilities at using your abilities in combat skyrockets and evolves, taking an entirely more advanced form. To begin with, you can toss around wide, area-effect versions of any magic you can normally do, letting you throw your curses against fortresses and armies instead of individual people.

This takes more energy, obviously, but far, far lesser than it normally should. Something to the effect of a tenth as much. And that's for systems that actually cost any power to cast magic in the first place. You can do this in reverse also, 'shrinking' spells meant for battles and sieges to use them in one on one duels.

Innovation (400 cp) (700) - Magic is not a new phenomenon. It has been around for ages, and contrary to what you might tend to believe, its users are not idiots, any more than normal people are. But for all that, it still doesn't measure up to you! You're able to come up with several innovations and ideas when presented with any magical field of study, no matter how well-studied or researched it might already be.

And these are not just low key, barely noticeable changes, either. Unless you want to focus on the small stuff, you're capable of sudden insights and ideas that can dramatically change the way the field is studied, discover unbelievable new uses for ordinary spells or potions, come up with entirely unique tricks… anything is possible.

Items:

Common Wand (free) - A normal, common wand. Made of wood and something from a powerful magical animal. Lets you cast magic.

Marauders' Map (free) - A to-scale, updating map of Hogwarts school, complete with the people. It pierces Polyjuice, Invisibility cloaks, and anything else people might come up with, always telling the real names of people.

In the future you may pick any area about the size of Hogwarts and apply these effects unerringly to it. You know a short ritual to change the area the map shows, but it requires you being in that location in order to perform.

Deathly Hallow: The Cloak of Invisibility (300 cp) (400) - This is the third item of the set of Deathly Hallows. Again, made either by Death or by Ignotus, the third Peverell brother, this cloak is a timeless, eternally functional invisibility cloak. In addition, you don't age while you have this on, but only when you have it on completely, meaning no part of your body should be visible.

No magic except that cast by the Elder Wand, or of a similar strength can penetrate this invisibility, and attempts to summon this cloak from you fail. In addition, you can always see it unless you want otherwise.

You may turn this into any other form of full-body covering garment at will.

Basilisk Hide (free Dark) - This is a cool piece of wear. Black or a very dark green in color, it's a trench coat that goes down to just below your knees, as long as you're between four to ten feet in height. Extremely resistant to all magic but your own, it can turn into a suit of armor at will, losing none of the effectiveness.

Aside from being extremely light and easy to move in, this comes with a full array of enchantments, including expansion charms on the internal pockets, cooling and warming spells, and durability spells that boost its already great durability, equivalent to about five or six layers of kevlar, by several orders of magnitude. You could brush off a point blank tank shell in this thing. Or the magical equivalent, for that matter.

Lordship Ring (300 cp, discount Dark) (100 cp) - Hail Anon, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Jumper, assorted muggle aristocratic titles following. You have a ring on your finger now, denoting you as the head of a very old, very rich and very powerful family, which you may or may not also be the last of. Entrenched deep in government, this provides you a seat with multiple votes at the Wizengamot, and broad influence over the Ministry of Magic even if you're really young.

You have several accounts in Gringotts and other banks, holding somewhere around fifty million galleons, and about half of that separately in muggle banks. This is in addition to valuable investments and properties, such as real estate in prime location, shares in media corporations and businesses, again in both the magical and muggle worlds. In addition, you have just over a dozen residences, scattered across the world with a focus in your home country. All of them are magical and heavily enchanted, but none of them is comparable to either the Grand Jumper Manor or the Lair , being, at best, a third as good. Unless you took those, in which case all of them are uplifted to the same degree.

The ring itself is a reusable portkey to every piece of property you own, through Jump-fiat or otherwise. It also acts as a signet ring, and sealing any message with it will ensure that people that see the seal know the message came from you, and also serves as proof of your identity if required. You may summon or dismiss it from your person as you desire, but it is traditional to wear it at all times, and no one will question you wearing it, even if you normally wouldn't be allowed to.

Companions:

Goblin Manager (100 cp) (0) This is a Goblin of the Gringotts clan, and has chosen to serve you as a loyal manager of your interests. An absolute financial genius, he is a master of both predatory and genuinely good lending, knows how to manipulate all the magical and muggle markets like the back of his hand, and has an unbelievably good eye for investment opportunities both muggle and magical.

You can put him in charge of any and all money-related matters, be it balancing your personal chequebook or as the CEO of all your estates and businesses or running the Finance Ministry of your kingdom, and trust him to manage it all with superb brilliance. You won't ever need to worry about money with this guy around.

If you want he'll also teach you and others his stuff, although getting as good as him might take a looong while, considering how he's the Einstein, Hawking and Tesla put together of Finance.

I sat in my apartment, fuming over the injustice of it all. I'd lost another job, and they weren't easy to find nowadays! And I had been, by far, the most intelligent person working in that offce full of idiots. But noooo, around comes layoff time and all the kiss-asses and suck-ups make the cut while the person who actually knew what was going on gets sent to the side of the road. They should have been more grateful to have me, but you just couldn't rely on people to know when they had it good.

Well, at least since it was being 'laid off' and not 'fired for cause' I could collect unemployment this time. So, looking on the bright side, I could enjoy a few months of vacation and decompress from all the crap I'd just had to go through.

was always good to make my mind off my mind, so I opened up a category search (filtering out all the kiddie fic, naturally) to see if anything good had come up in my favorite properties since the last time I'd had a chance to do a nice, long fanfic crawl. I was in the middle of going through yet another 'Harry Potter is a poor abused woobie but this time everybody feels sorry for him so his life is better than canon even though he's a wet blanket who doesn't actually do anything' fic when I decided halfway through the second chapter that this wasn't going to be worth reading, and Alt-F4'ed.

"Pathetic. If you dropped me into Harry's shoes, I'd do a lot more than just whine about it." I scoffed.

"Care to put your money where your mouth is?" a girls' voice said, and I almost fell out of my desk chair spinning around to see that a strange, skinny red-headed girl that looked like an anorexic high-school freshman was sitting on my dresser drawer with a challenging expression on her face.

I was up out of my chair like a shot, fists clenched. "Get the fuck out of my house, whoever you are!" I yelled.

"Make me." she snarked.

I was sure I outweighed her by at least two to one, but decided to hedge my bet anyway. So I took a step sideways and picked up the aluminum baseball bat I kept ready for intruders from where it was leaning against a nearby bookshelf, and tapped my palm with it menacingly.

"I said, get the fuck ou- no, on second thought, stay right there. One 911 call and the cops can find out how you even got in here." It only belatedly occurred to me that she might have revealed herself to be distracting me from something or someone else in my house. Keeping one hand on the bat and her in view, I side-stepped towards the phone.

Suddenly, I was unable to move. One corner of her lips turned up mockingly as I was paralyzed. Okay, holy shit.

"... magic is real?" I said, trying to make sense of this.

"Everything is real," she said back. "If not here, then somewhere else. You're more than familiar with fanfic, so, have you ever heard of 'CYOAs'?"

"Those self-insert things, with character points and stuff, that they do on 4chan?" I said, my heart leaping. "I've seen a couple..." The blood pounded in my ears as I was caught between anticipation and fright. I mean, some of those CYOAs were pretty awful. But some were like whoa.

"Yup! ROBs are real, kid! And lucky you, you drew my attention! Since I came in just as you were snarking on Harry Potter fanfic, what do you think my offer is going to be?"

Crap. Okay, great, but still, crap! I mean, as much as I said that I wouldn't be a whiny bitch if I ever got Harry Potter's life, the fact remains that Rowling loooooved to use him as a whipping boy. On the other hand, who the fuck could turn down a chance to leave this entry-level office-drone shit behind and go do magic? Come on, think, think...

"Is this going to be me being self-inserted into canon Harry's life, or are you going for one of the more creative options?" I asked. Yeah, flatter her, see if that works.

"Well, I did have this new CYOA I wanted to test," she said, and with a flick of her finger released me. Several sheets of paper, clipped together in a neat plastic binder, materialized in my hand. "Generic Harry Potter Fanfiction CYOA" it said.

... wow. Wow. God damn, those are some awesome perks. Like, some of this shit is from the God Mode Stu kind of HP fanfic, not just the shit kind. Fucking jackpot!

"Why are some of the words blurred out?" I asked.

"Those are the parts of the document not applicable to your individual situation," the mysterious girl said. "I mean, do you think that with the entire multiverse to travel from I just recruit from normal Earths? Some of the people who use that particular document already have extraordinary abilities or powers of their own before they start it."

"That would explain why there's an option for locking out superpowers. Wait, am I allowed to take that Drawback even if I don't have any?"

"It doesn't say you have to have powers to take it, it just says what happens to any powers you already have if you do. So sure, take the 400 cp."

"Awesome!" I said, and went back to carefully reading the document. Even with cheesing the Drawbacks to the maximum +1500cp allowed (cripes, talk about double dipping, most of this crap happens to Harry's life anyway and the rest are easily solvable with the stuff I can buy, so I'm basically being paid for nothing!) and with the +500cp from the Jumper-Who-Lived Scenario, I couldn't hope to buy all the good stuff. I'd have to decide on what approach I was going to use and what general plan of attack I had, and then pare it down to the core essentials.

Right, ok, Merlin Returned, that's just an absolute essential. And, let's see... one perk line for being super-mudblood and reforming technology and magic, that's promising. One perk line for... ugh, you're basically a Potterverse Disney Princess with the offensive punch of a wet firecracker. Forget that bullshit! And... wow. Okay, the Dark perk line is bad ass. Yeah, unless Grey is totally the mega-awesome, we're going Dark.

But not being totally stupid I read the whole thing front to back (noting that all other scenarios except "Jumper-Who-Lived" was blurred out - OK, I guess she was going off what I was saying right before she showed herself) before deciding on which line. And while the Grey capstone was super tempting when boosted, it didn't offer enough immediate survivability in the lower ranks of perks to be worth the hassle. So, I'd go in as the magical badass and hope that Merlin Returned and Innovation let me eventually figure out dimension travel later, if I wanted it.

Likewise I could only afford the two magical gifts (Harry's canon Parseltongue and the Occlumency to avoid having the whole works bitched up the instant Snape or Dumbledore looked at me) after buying everything else, despite so many of them being good. And my Items shopping was limited to the Lordship Ring (the total tie-breaker in favor of Dark!, there is simply no way I'm passing this up) and the uber-goblin to manage it all for me, because there weren't any perks for being a financial genius myself and having that much money and no skills to pay the bills with it is just asking to be ripped off. Especially in a place where people like Lucius Malfoy are considered model citizens and the banking system is run by a race that thinks they already own everything and their customers are only allowed to rent it for a little while.

And, well, that 100cp in that one perk? Look, when a Random Omnipotent Being offers you an omnipotence-backed guarantee that no matter how much you dog the ladies or how many you keep on the string simultaneously they will always go for it, you take it.

So, after spending about twenty minutes with a paper and a pencil working it out, I finally plugged in my choices, answered the questions for exactly when and where (inside the allowable range of locations and times) I wanted to drop in, and handed it back to the ROB.

"Is that good?" I asked her, because you don't piss off the DM.

"Is that all you want?" she asked me.

"Well, I can't really afford anymore."

"What I meant was, confirm build sheet, yes/no? Are you satisfied with these choices?"

"Yes, I am satisfied with these choices." I agreed formally.

She broke out in a wide smile at my acknowledgement, and pumped her fist in triumph while doing a little war dance up and down on my carpet. I was starting to wonder just how slow business had been in the ROB franchise that she was this pleased at finally closing a deal, when everything went black.

Good-bye, useless real life. It's time to be a fucking wizard.

Since I didn't want to go actually live through a single minute of the Dursley experience that I didn't need to, I'd chosen to start ten minutes before Hagrid came through the door of the abandoned hut where Vernon had hoped to outrun the deluge of Hogwarts letters. If I played my cards right those would be the only ten minutes I'd ever have to actually live with the Dursleys.

I opened my eyes, feeling the rush of a hidden power inside me. I was hungry, cold, wet, and bruised, but right now the euphoria of the situation was the only thing I felt. I was Harry Potter.

Hell, I was Harry Potter-plus. Not the beaten and downtrodden boy of canon, I was a Harry Potter with guarantees for tremendous magical power, badass fighting skill, wealth, power, loyal servants (well, one to start with), a harem, tactical and strategic genius, unparalleled social skills... like I'd said when ROB first explained the deal to me, fucking jackpot.

My new Occlumency kicked in and I gained a measure of control over my raging emotions. Using the eidetic memory I now had (so awesome!) I reviewed the highlights of my new life to date and then felt Modern-Day Alexander kick in as I swiftly yet methodically made a situation assessment and an inventory of available resources.

I couldn't believe how easy it was. I'd always been smarter than all the idiots around me, but the perks I'd bought had augmented me to a level that made the old me look like an idiot as well. Admittedly, it helped that 'the idiots around me' at the present moment were Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley, who were simple creatures driven by simpler motivations even by the standards of idiots. Their buttons were so obvious in my new hindsight, so big and large and red. Just waiting to be pressed.

But before I did that, I needed to take care of one other thing first. My memory review had also shown that just as the Drawback had said, the Dursleys of this particular storyline were even worse than the canon versions. Not outright homicidally worse, mind you. Given that "I" had gotten this far in the timeline already without a serious divergence the narrative logic of the situation would make no sense if they'd seriously wanted me dead before now, as it would have taken a serious divergence to keep me alive in the face of such attention. Which, given that I was supposed to be entering a timeline composed of a semi-random selection of the common Harry Potter fan fiction tropes instead of any one particular fanfic, was an encouraging sign. The selection might be a bit of a mish-mash but at least it would be a reasonably coherent mishmash. Then again, Bad Crack was a Drawback I'd deliberately not taken, so, fair's fair.

Now, if Merlin Returned and Dark Lord were to be believed I should already be an absolutely badass battle-mage. However, my mental inventory hadn't turned up any actual spell knowledge implanted into me with all the 'Harry' memories. Apparently I still had to learn a given piece of magic in order to be skilled at using it, as part of the wording of Dark Lord had already vaguely implied. Right. Well, I suppose it wouldn't be any fun if it were too easy. But it would mean I'd have to be careful about what fights I picked before I could fully grow into my power.

Still, even poor pathetic canon Harry could still do accidental magic this early in the timeline. But I was a Merlin Returned, so my "accidental" magic should be at least partly under my control just as Tom Riddle's was at this age. And so I fueled my desire with memories of incidents in the past when young Harry was trying his best to hide from Dudley's "Harry Hunting" and channeled that emotion into my magic, with intent and concentration. Let's see if I can get a basic Silencing Charm out of this...

It took me almost ten seconds of mentally struggling before I successfully connected my desire and intent to my magical core. With an almost audible "click!" I felt some connection snap home, some mental grasp finally be consciously made. And Dudley's snores, which had been rasping out all the while from the sofa where he lay curled up under all the best blankets, suddenly cut off. Yes! Wandless, wordless magic before I even got my Hogwarts Letter! We are on our way!

I reached out again with my will and ended the silence spell that I'd cast over the snoring Dudley, and then recast it on myself. With everyone else in the hut sound asleep and any noise I might make now magically muffled, there was no risk of detection when I snuck into the adjacent bedroom where Vernon and Petunia were sleeping and carefully unloaded Vernon's shotgun before replacing it by his bedside. Rather than risk experimenting with 'accidental' Vanishing Charms - I wouldn't want to Vanish anything I couldn't live without - I simply put the shells back in the dresser drawer. Let Vernon wonder how he could possibly have 'forgotten' to load his weapon. Because it would not be at all convenient if my clever plan for tonight was short-circuited by Vernon getting lucky and putting a load of buckshot through Hagrid's face. After all, that one had been a fanfic too.

I checked the time on Dudley's watch. Five minutes to midnight. Just enough time to get this started. I piled together some kindling and a couple of logs in the fireplace, then dispelled the silence on myself and concentrated on the kindling. Burn, dammit. Burn!

Lighting a fire was another very simple piece of wandless magic, so in no time I had a nice blaze going. I 'accidentally' knocked over the fireplace pokers as I moved away from the hearth. Now, that should wake Dudley up...

"I'm trying to sleep!' the big baby whined, rolling over and coming to his feet with a loud THUD. "Listen, Freak, you shouldn't-" Dudley stopped and looked confusedly at the fireplace. "How'd you do that?"

"Ummm..." I pretended to stammer.

"MUM! DAD! HARRY'S TRYING TO BURN THE SHACK DOWN OR SOMETHING!" Dudley squalled. Soooo predictable.

His shout brought the mad walrus and the howling banshee out of their cave, and all I had to do was spend a minute or so unconvincingly stalling and giving a guilty look or two to convince Vernon that I'd gone well beyond the grave offense of playing with matches without supervision to instead actually using my magic to light that fire. Which meant that it was time for another 'beat the freakishness out of the boy' session, of course. However, I'd deliberately picked the timing for this confrontation, which meant that Vernon had only just begun to slap me around as the clock drew to midnight.

Now, any domestic abuser who'd gotten away with it for this long had done so by mastering the skill of slapping the shit out of a ten-year-old boy without leaving any incriminating marks. I mean, fuck, I already knew that one from my old life before I ever was Harry. But Dark Lord gave me unparalleled fighting reflexes, so even though skill at "muggle dueling" wasn't within its remit I still had an exceptional reaction time and agility in general because clumsy and slow people don't make for badass magical duelers, and this on top of Harry's already exceptional reaction time in canon. Which is why it was so easy for me to get the walrus' rhythm, time the moment properly, and deliberately duck the wrong way at the last instant and viciously attack Vernon Dursley's fist with my nose.

Ow! Ow ow fuckballs damn! Don't let anybody tell you that a broken nose doesn't fucking hurt like a bitch!

And that was the pleasant family scene Hagrid walked into, my shout of pain having made him not bother to stop and knock but instead to simply bust right through the door at full speed. And when he did so he was confronted with the vista of a bleeding Harry Potter sitting dazedly on the ground, a very large and red-faced man standing over him with a smear of Harry's blood on his balled fist, a thin horse-faced woman standing by glaring down hatefully and a fat ugly boy jumping up and down and cheering 'Yeah! Hit the freak again!'

I was a little disappointed when Hagrid didn't actually kill the man.

Of course there was no question of me staying with the Dursleys after that. Hagrid might have been kind and restrained enough to simply punch Vernon unconscious, but anybody who seriously tried to demand to Hagrid's face that Harry Potter should be put back in a place where Hagrid knew they were beating him, where he'd witnessed the horrible things with his own eyes, would probably be lucky to escape with all of his limbs still attached. Even Dumbledore would almost certainly get the Very Disappointed Hagrid Frown for bringing that topic up, although I had yet to test that theory.

Still, it was the work of a moment to convince Hagrid that yes, I believed everything he said about me being a wizard and an old friend of my parents and would cheerfully go away with him to anywhere that wasn't here. Now, it would have been a little inconvenient for Hagrid to insist on taking me back to Hogwarts right away for Madam Pomphrey to look at - I didn't want to confront Dumbledore until after I'd had a chance to check in at Gringotts and get the exact details of my legal situation, for one thing - but all it took to avoid that was showing some 'That's Gryffindor courage that is, just like your parents, 'Arry!' and being all stiff-upper-lip about it. Hagrid's half-giant resilience meant that he was already pretty vague on exactly how much pain could hurt other people so it was easy to convince him that despite how awful it looked all I needed was a handkerchief to wipe off the blood and a quick spell to fix my broken nose (and Hagrid was competent enough at basic household magic to pull off a simple Episkey) and I'd be all right. Especially since that had the virtue of being the truth.

So, after the boat ride of canon we ended up at the Leaky Cauldron - not the next morning like in canon, but in the middle of the night, as we'd left the island immediately.

Tomorrow would be an awesome day.

Despite the temptation I knew better than to make a play for the Philosopher's Stone. Obviously I'd have to solve that pesky mortality problem sometime, but after I took care of Voldemort and Dumbledore and became the Hero of the Wizarding World I should have a good century and more to fix that problem. As with the dimensional travel I'd have to hope that Innovator, vast wealth and prestige, and time would allow me to independently rediscover a method. Since I hadn't ordered an idiot Dumbledore off the selection menu (I'd thought about it, but the whole 'the schemes are countless and he has a new one like every week' thing had put me off - even an idiot firing completely blind can kill you if he has the opportunity to throw enuff dakka, everybody rolls a natural 20 eventually) unless confirmed otherwise I'd have to plan on the basis that I had a Dumbledore who could pour piss out of a boot. Meaning that at the end of this year, when he chose to destroy the Philosopher's Stone, he'd make goddamn sure it was a Philosopher's Stone and not just a shiny rock. I doubted that even Merlin Returned would let me master enough alchemy in one year to create a fake capable of fooling Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore that it was Flamel's own creation - hell, if I really was that good, then I could just go the extra ten percent and make my own Stone for real!

So, no. We need to use our common sense here. No immortality in year one. Pity.

In canon, Harry was afraid of crowds and seemed bound and determined to throw away his fame and its accompanying advantages every single chance he got. Its like he was allergic to success. I, of course, wouldn't be anywhere near stupid enough to repeat that mistake. Now I'd hardly wallow in the praise like Gilderoy Lockhart, either - I didn't need Manipulative to tell me how that one would backfire soon enough. But the whole 'quiet brave Gryffindor' thing had worked great on Hagrid and it worked equally as well on the fan club in Diagon Alley the next morning. I affected to be confused at the whole thing (which of course prompted everyone to helpfully explain my own legend to me, thus bringing me up to speed on what the public version of events for this particular timeline was exactly), willing to raise the possibility that maybe it was my parents who'd defeated Voldemort and I was being given credit for their success simply because I'd been the survivor (knowing, of course, that the Wizarding World wouldn't abandon their preconceived notions of the Boy-Who-Lived but earning even more admiration for my 'modesty'), and using Manners Maketh Man to come across with an impression of quiet dignity even in the castoff rags I was still wearing from Durzkaban.

So everyone I met that day walked away with the impression that I was a very fine young figure of a wizard, who'd been through an awful experience and might be a little unfamiliar with the new world he'd entered but was still very much a credit to his family line and with great prospects. I'd made damn sure of that.

And, of course, Hagrid's total inability to keep a secret and my indirectly steering the conversation around to the topic ensured that by mid-morning that day, half the population of Magical Britain would know that the Boy-Who-Lived had been rescued from his horribly abusive Muggle relatives. Indeed, my plans to get to Gringotts and check out my Lordship Ring were unexpectedly put on hold by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

No less a personage than Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE herself, had come down to the Leaky Cauldron as soon as the Auror walking the Diagon Alley beat that morning had notified her. They'd been part of the crowd that gathered around us at breakfast and breathlessly listened to Hagrid's impassioned version of events and my quiet confirmation, and immediately ran to notify their chain of command the instant they'd heard 'Boy-Who-Lived abused by muggles'.

I hadn't really planned on this happening. One of the commoner fanfic cliches was that Amelia Bones was pretty much the smartest person in the entire Ministry of Magic. Certainly she was the only one in canon who'd shown any genuine competence at their job and had no conspicuous moments of idiocy, only conspicuous absence from several parts of the plot she should have logically been involved in earlier. And even those were adequately explained by Fudge being Fudge. Fortunately she wasn't a Legilimens, and too honest to use Legilimency on a child without legal permission to even if she was. So i didn't even need the Occlumency, except to use its perfect cloaking of my tells to get away with repeated lies of omission. Against her, I wasn't going to risk any complicated con jobs, not until I'd gotten a much better idea of her quality.

This timeline apparently didn't have the 'super-competent Wizarding Child Services' cliche because the investigative process into my abuse didn't exactly run like a well-oiled machine. Oh, Madam Bones asked reasonably intelligent questions and the people she sent to verify points did indeed verify them, but there was no using Pensieves and no other actual intelligent use of forensic magic like some stories had. I did note that this Madam Bones apparently wasn't one of the Inspector Javert cliche ones when her reaction to my 'innocently' saying that Hagrid had used magic to heal my nose was to smile slightly and then politely fail to write it down; I wasn't supposed to know that Hagrid had been forbidden from using a wand, but of course she did.

Test successful. Madam Bones is not totally inflexible about the law, even if she is still by all appearances a thoroughly honest and apolitical Auror. I can work with that.

Fearing that Dumbledore would arrive before I'd had a chance to check in at Gringotts - at this rate I'd be spending all morning in the Ministry of Magic building, and there was no way he wouldn't clue in soon given that word-of-mouth of my story was spreading out from Diagon Alley as fast as Apparition and portkeys could carry it - I 'innocently' asked Madam Bones, during a lull in my debriefing/witness statement, how I'd be paying for school and where would I live. Did my parents have a bank account?

That indeed had the DMLE immediately sending someone to Gringotts to make official inquiries about my situation, which rapidly brought back the reply that the Potter Account Manager in Gringotts wanted to see me in person, as soon as possible, regarding possible financial irregularity.

And so we left the various Ministry bureaucrats still undecided over my fate as, with two of her Aurors (nobody I'd heard of) as escort, I was taken to Gringotts.

Its one thing to know that you're rich. Its another thing to actually sit down with your financial manager and read the spreadsheets and see the numbers and know just how thoroughly, stinking, slobbering, filthy rich you really are.

I practically had an evilgasm sitting right there in the chair. I was rich. I was really, really, really rich. I'd never have to do a single hour's worth of the wage slave routine ever again. Never have to kiss the ass of some fat idiot with half my marbles because he controlled whether or not I could afford to eat. Never have to spend all day doing what I should do instead of what I wanted to do. (Well, I'd still have to do that to a certain extent for the next seven years because Hogwarts, but that's all right becaused I wanted to learn magic anyway). Never have to live as someone else's tool instead of my own man. And, of course, there's the physical comforts. And the potential company, in addition to the perk I already had for that.

Yes, things were definitely looking up. I sat there, using my new brain to intelligently and incisively take in everything that Bonecrusher, my paid-for Companion and new financial Lord High Everything Else, showed me about my portfolio. The dozens of millions of galleons, the multiple properties on several continents, the diversified investments in both the magical and the muggle worlds.

"You've been doing a wonderful job, Account Manager Bonecrusher," I said with perfect politeness. "I am very impressed. Now, you mentioned something about a Potter Lordship?"

"You are the last surviving scion of the main line, as well as the last surviving member of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter anywhere," Bonecrusher confirmed. "By right of inheritance, you are the Lord Potter. As far as Gringotts is concerned you could claim your ring and station immediately."

"As far as Gringotts is concerned," I echoed. "The Ministry?"

"Outside of a courtesy title would not recognize you as Lord Potter, nor allow you the full prerogatives of your station and your place on the Wizengamot, until after you are recognized as a legal adult under wizarding law. Now, Goblins have no such concept. While we have a traditional age at which adult responsibilities are normally expected to be met we are a warrior race. If your ancestors die while you are still young, then you must assume the mantle whether 'old enough' or not or else prepare to join them. But humans look at such things differently."

"Outside of the necessary financial interface, does Gringotts concern itself with or practice ministry law?"

"No we do not. And your family's retained solicitor had that retainer expire on the death of your grandfather, Charlus Potter. By now, he is no longer among the living either."

Black Family Tree fanfic trope, check! But no ez-pz super-lawyer, darn.

"My parents' will?"

"They died intestate - without a will. Your father was only Heir Potter when your parents went into hiding, so presumably he did not see a need to formally clarify the details of inheritance of the House. But your grandparents were killed by Death Eaters during the period of time they were under the Fidelius Charm, and being incommunicado the new Lord Potter never was able to contact us to reclaim the family ring or formally assume the title. It is unknown whether he even knew that the title had passed on."

"So, since I'm the only heir I get everything without a will, no exceptions. But since there was no will and I'm underage, my legal guardianship is completely up in the air."

"Correct."

"Are there any other Houses I inherit?"

"You are also Heir Black via Dorea Black, your grandmother. The current Lord Black, Sirius Black, is at present confined in Azkaban Prison and also childless. You are Lord Peverell via House Potter's historic descent from that house, but Peverell had been a 'lost' house for centuries and has only a modest residue remaining in their Gringotts vault. There are several other more obscure houses that are in a similar condition."

"I'm ahead of Draco Malfoy in the line of succession? I thought Dorea was the youngest child of Cygnus Black."

"She was. However, Lord Arcturus Black declared in his will that no issue of Lucius Malfoy would be allowed to inherit the Black Lordship under any circumstances, and as Orion Black predeceased his father Arcturus that means that the current Lord Black is the only one who could overturn that. Which he has not yet done, and is vastly unlikely to ever do so." Bonecrusher paused for one of those horrible goblin smiles. "By all accounts, Arcturus Black was not a great admirer of his grandson-in-law."

"Is Lucius Malfoy going to try and use my blood connection to the Black Family to make himself my legal guardian? Because if he succeeds at that I'm going to need some fast lessons in the Fidelius Charm and a portkey to France."

"He will almost certainly try, assuming he has not already, but we do not anticipate he will meet much success in that regard given that every other faction competing for the privilege would unite against him. You do of course realize that the legal guardianship of the Lord Potter, especially in the absence of a formal will, is a great potential prize."

"So I'm at the mercy of whoever gets the Ministry to decide in their favor? Shit. Is there legal emancipation in the Wizarding World? I can certainly meet any 'able to support yourself without assistance' requirement."

"Unless the Ministry on its own initiative chooses to declare you a legal adult prior to your seventeenth birthday there is not such a procedure. And yes, whoever becomes your new guardian would have essentially free access to your finances. And given that Albus Dumbledore has already been abusing the letter of the law and his authority to sequester your Gringotts mail from you to date?"

"I'm assuming you audited the hell out of anything he's withdrawn already."

"We routinely do so in such situations. There were several unaccounted-for bequests, but as they were part of a pattern of withdrawals dating from before your parents' death we could not prove that they were not something your father had desired. When we confronted him with a request for written proof of an ongoing bequest, he ceased ordering the withdrawals."

"Support for the Order of the Phoenix, most likely. So, briefly, what are the possible methods I can use to protect my fortunes in case I end up the legal ward of, oh, Lucius Malfoy?"

"The simplest and most certain one is for you to claim the Potter Lordship immediately. While it would be immediately recognized by few if any outside of Gringotts we would still acknowledge you as an adult, and thus do absolutely nothing with or to your finances without your permisison regardless of what authority any other wizard claimed. And by treaty, Gringotts' own internal financial policy cannot be questioned save in cases of defrauding an account holder."

"Then may I have the ring, please?"

Bonecrusher nodded solemnly and slid the case towards me across his desktop. I opened it, took a deep breath, and slid the Potter Signet Ring on my finger. Without fanfare or pomp, I felt the family magics 'click' into position.

With a thought, I banished the ring to, well, wherever it went to go hide when I didn't want to display it, and nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Account Manager Bonecrusher. The House of Potter will remember and reward your loyal service."

"You are most welcome, Lord Potter."

"Now, can Gringotts recommend a good wizarding solicitor? I think I'm about to face a custody hearing I really don't want to walk into unarmed."

Despite the best my hired legal gun could do, everyone walked out of the custody hearing circus not having all that they wanted and being vaguely dissatisfied. Which is to say it was a successful political compromise.

Since this was the first year Fudge was not yet wholly in the pocket of Lucius Malfoy and still valued Dumbledore's advice. That was good, as it meant I didn't end up in Malfoy Manor. However, it was not so good because it also means I didn't end up with the Tonkses or Amelia Bones or some suitable neutral party.

No, instead Albus Dumbledore was made my official, full-time wizarding guardian. Thank God I'd already claimed the Lordship Ring. I could at least freeze him out of touching any of my stuff. But I was definitely going to be getting more than a bit of mileage out of the Dumbledorean Troubles Drawback I'd bought, given that he'd still be officially in control of my life and this time with actual legal backing. My foresight in not going for an extra-evil or extra-stupid-and-energetic Dumbledore was amply repaid. Now to gird my loins and get through the rest of this 300 CP experience.

Still, I coudln't entirely complain. I had just succesfully cheezed 600 free CP off the Durzkaban experience, because I was shut of them for all time. Not even Dumbledore could hope to insist I go back there without being verbally (if not physically) torn apart by a howling mob. "Boy-Who-Lived Denied His Heritage And Held Captive By Abusive Muggles" was going to be dominating the news cycle for weeks, if not months. The 'Blood Protections' were now a dead letter.

Yes, that would mean suicide if I was normal, stupid, helpless Harry. But I'm not. Just give me a chance to learn some magic and train up, and by the time Voldemort gets his body back I'll be ready to hand him his head straight-up. And the Jumper-Who-Lived Scenario already gave me a guarantee of getting the Horcrux out of my scar and surviving the procedure, so I didn't need all the convoluted bullshit that canon required there either.

Despite my attempts (at Dumbledore's urging, naturally) to insist that they didn't really know what they were doing and should be given a second chance, "sadly" I just wasn't convincing enough to keep Vernon and Petunia from being sentenced to the Veil of Death by an outraged Wizengamot. Well, at least they hadn't had to go to Azkaban. Dudley was given a once-over by the Obliviators - can't have him go around talking about magic, now can we? - and dumped back in the Muggle foster care system. Under Director Bones' prompting, the DMLE at least was able to arrange that his case be flagged for suitable attention regarding the therapy he'd need as well as ensuring that the Dursley's estate would go to him and set him in later life. Honestly, I wouldn't have cared if they'd thrown the fat baby to the Dementors, but c'est la vie.

Still, it was Vernon and Petunia who had a special place in my memories for all the beatings and starvings and emotional torturings that my memories contained in full, eidetic living color, so while I entirely didn't let it show on my face mentally I raised a glass in a toast when the news went out over the Wizarding Wireless that the horrible filthy muggles who'd so tormented the poor, brave Boy-Who-Lived had just been executed.

No, of course Dumbledore didn't let me go watch the executions. Not that I'd dare to ask him. I was the intelligent, perhaps slightly wary, but still entirely decent and dignified young Boy-Who-Lived and that was the image I'd have to stick to. Fortunately his guilt trip over the whole Durzkaban experience - I should say his apparent guilt trip, for all I know the devious old bastard was faking just as much as I was - seemed to lead him to be less than entirely suspicious of me. While I'm sure he knew I was an Occlumens by now, the trauma of my childhood gave every reason for my mind to 'naturally' be closed-off. And while I remained warm and friendly with Hagrid, as my 'rescuer', I affected a certain reluctance to entirely trust adults - again, perfectly natural after my experiences - to explain why I kept a slight distance from Dumbledore.

Still, I had Manipulative and Manners Maketh Man and Occlumency to make sure that the only impressions I gave people were the ones I wanted them to have.

Which came in handy when Dumbledore's first idea for where I'd be housed and fed needed to be finessed around. Because of course he dumped me on his good friends the Weasleys. But, I quite cheerfully blew up my 'opportunity' to stay with the Weasleys by deliberately making sure to detonate the Ron Weasley Jealousy Bomb early. A nice new custom-tailored acromantula-silk robe to wear on my arrival, an entirely generous offer to pay for the ice cream at Florian's when Molly took the family out for their Diagon Alley school supplies run, a flash of a gold-filled purse when I bought several more books for myself at Flourish & Blott's, and sure enough somebody blew his stack.

Now, since I hadn't ordered all stupid evil Weasleys off the menu, I didn't get all stupid evil Weasleys. But 'Ron Weasley is a great big git' is still one of the commonest tropes in HP fanfiction and so when I rolled the dice here I was confident of the odds. Sure enough, a combo of behavior designed to charm Molly but enrage the short-tempered kid beyond all reason produced the desired effect. Of course, since Ron wasn't actually a lunatic the situation could have been patched over in due time, especially with his mother and Dumbledore potentially available to both throw in... had I not 'just happened' to say exactly the 'wrong' thing (bless you, Manipulative!) to make Ron bust out with his nasty sneering 'You wouldn't understand because your parents are dead!' type comment that had been part of his big blowup in book 7, only six years early. Even in canon Ron quite often said absolutely horrible things without thinking that he only regretted saying well after the fact, so, it was hardly a Light Yagami worthy feat of manipulation to prompt him to do it on cue.

And, well, once he'd said something that horrible, it was entirely understandable that Fred and George had to physically pull us off of each other. Not that they didn't agree that Ron didn't deserve a good punch in the schnoz for saying what he'd said about my parents, but he was their baby brother. Still, I didn't imagine they'd do more than turn my hair funny colors in retaliation, if that much. Its not like anybody agreed with Ron's sentiments.

I of course had to endure the full Molly Weasley Personal Howler Experience for the brawl, as did Ron. But given that the only place in the Burrow where I could sleep was as Ron's roommate, which was absolutely impossible right now, she had to reluctantly call Dumbledore and explain that things hadn't worked out as planned. I'm sure Dumbledore would be willing to try again next year, after spending this whole upcoming school year trying to make me and Ron 'resolve our differences', but in the several weeks left before start of term there wasn't much choice except to keep me as a houseguest at Hogwarts.

Well. It wasn't entirely how I'd planned so far, but I'm still ending up where I need to be.

Time to be a wizard.

The average person in my situation would have gone straight for the Restricted Section, 'knowing' from the novels how to avoid the shrieking book and other hazards. I was not average, of course and did nothing of the kind.

While most of the staff was still on their own summer vacations and the remainder busy with pre-start-of-year preparations, Hagrid was available to keep an eye on me from day-to-day. Dumbledore himself was of course too busy to do more than put in brief, eye-twinkling appearances. I ate meals in the Great Hall with the staff (until I charmed Hagrid into showing me where the kitchens were so I could 'officially' know about them), studied the first-year textbooks I'd picked up in Diagon Alley, and discreetly used my new wand (holly-and-phoenix-feather, of course), trusting the fact that I was at Hogwarts to render me safe from the Underage Magic laws.

Merlin Returned promised a truly ridiculous talent for and rate of learning at magic and it delivered on every word of that promise. By the start of term I was capable of easily casting any spell in the first-year syllabus, as well as a few general utility charms that I picked up here and there, and was chafing a bit that I didn't yet have an excuse to go for the second or third. Without the other students around Madam Pince wouldn't let me in the library, and since I only had to read my textbooks once to perfectly memorize them all, that left me somewhat minus on research materials.

Although I had yet to get my Invisibility Cloak from Dumbledore, I already had picked up the rest of my items. My wand was, of course, straight from Ollivander's, I'd already picked up my Lordship Ring, and a copy of the Marauder's Map and a lovely enchanted suit of Basilisk Hide had turned up during Bonecrusher's inventory of the Potter vaults at Gringotts and been forwarded to me at my request. I also instructed Bonecrusher to make a discreet purchase, without publicly using my name, of a modest apartment adjacent to Diagon Alley. Its not that I particularly needed the additional living room as that I needed the transport nexus.

You see, the Lordship Ring also acted as an at-will portkey to "every piece of property I own", and now that I owned one in Diagon Alley I could transport myself there at will. Since in this continuity James Potter had been the legal owner of the Shrieking Shack, having purchased it to give Remus a place to endure his transformations, I already had a handy portkey destination at this end to transport back to and one that was already conveniently just outside the Hogwarts anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey enchantments. Between the Shrieking Shack, my new Diagon Alley pied-a-terre, and the ruined house at Godric's Hollow I was now capable of instant transportation to and from the three main wizarding settlements in the United Kingdom, and all this before I'd even learned how to Apparate.

However, before I did anything else I had to test exactly how many limits Albus Dumbledore was placing on me.

This was going to hurt.

After Hagrid had told me one of the stories about what a fine Quidditch player my dad had been, it would not be unexpected of Harry Potter to swipe a broom from the closet by the Quidditch pitch and try to fly off on it. Nor was it at all remarkable that a completely first-time flyer with no instruction would fall off his broom and break something. Even if he'd fallen off deliberately.

Thank God I knew a numbing charm, I'm just saying.

Still, my experiment confirmed my hopes. I was not under any specific full-time security monitoring by Dumbledore. If I had been, I wouldn't have laid alongside the quidditch pitch with a broken leg for almost thirty full minutes before someone finally found me. As is, that's how long I had to lie there before Filch came through on his regular sweep. (I'd timed his patterns on the Marauder's Map, of course. I didn't want to be out there all damn night.). I cancelled the numbing charm shortly before he arrived so I'd convincingly be in agony - which I really fucking was, let's get that clear! - and of course Madam Pomphrey and a dose of Skele-Gro had that pesky fracture fixed within a day.

I am not doing that again any time soon. Even with Basilisk Hide (deliberately leaving one leg uncovered) to hedge that bet, and the exceptional reflexes and balance I had, that was a risk. If I'd landed wrong it would have all been over right then and there.

Still, I was going to have to be ducking Killing Curses out there before all was said and done, so in addition to testing the limits of the surveillance around me (or not around me) I also had to test myself. Deliberately taking a punch from a fat bully like Vernon Dursley is one thing, but did I have the willpower to risk serious bodily harm if necessary in the service of my goals?

As it happens, yes, I did. Which was, by far, the most important thing I learned that day.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat cried.

This was the other reason I'd gone for the plan that deliberately broke my own leg instead of some safer test. I wasn't going to end up in Slytherin and draw down Dumbledore's suspicions on me, especially not in the early years when I'd still be weak and largely defenseless. I had to conform to people's expectations if I would be able to take them off guard when I needed to. But, you couldn't fool the Sorting Hat, so I had to cultivate my Gryffindor instincts at least a little to make it a split decision vs. my enthusiastically embracing my Slytherin side, because if it was a split decision then the hat would yield to my request just like canon.

But even if it was towards a calculated goal anybody with the fortitude to risk themselves like I did was Gryffindor enough, at least in part. And so, after a brief discussion with the Hat, I ended up where I needed to be.

Ron Weasley was of course at the end of the Sorting so he had the entire span of time between the Ps and the Ws to decide between his urge to be in Gryffindor like the rest of his family and his urge to not be roommates with The Prat (aka me). Of course, since he wasn't remotely cunning enough for Slytherin, remotely intelligent enough for Ravenclaw, and not hardworking enough for Hufflepuff, the Sorting Hat didn't even pretend to give him a choice.

Percy Weasley, fifth-year prefect and pompous git, sniffed and led us firsties off to our dorms. Wow, some Welcoming Feast, Hogwarts. You don't even give us a chance to get acquainted with our fellow students in other Houses. And as I'd already been at Hogwarts and just brought out for the Feast, I'd missed the entire Hogwarts Express line.

Right. If I have to start politicking in Gryffindor, then its time to start.

"Ron?" I asked him poiltely, right after we'd headed in past the portrait and were in the common room.

"What do you want, Potter?" he said angrily, rounding on me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Percy starting to say something and Fred shushing him.

"I want to apologize." At this point everybody else stopped even pretending to not pay attention. The Boy-Who-Lived already had something to apologize for? Call the Daily Prophet!

"You should apologize," Ron said, puffing himself up as if he'd won a big victory. "You should be doing a lot more than just apologizing! After what you did-"

"I shouldn't have gotten angry and punched you just because you said that thing about my parents," I continued. "So, can we not be enemies at school, at least? We'll have to be roommates for the next seven years."

I could see Percy's expression relaxing at seeing me do 'the right thing' and apologize. All well and good, I certainly didn't need a prefect with a vendetta added to the list of everyone else I already had to watch out for. On the other hand, I could tell from Fred & George's expressions that they'd spotted what Ron and Percy had missed... notably, that my 'apology' had just put the skids under Ron big-time. The rest of Gryffindor would be consumed with curiosity as to what Ron could possibly have said about the martyred James and Lily Potter to have provoked their son to punch someone, especially when he seemed like such a well-mannered boy otherwise, and none of their speculations would be to Ron's credit.

That could potentially be troublesome later... I certainly don't want the Weasley Twins out to get me, especially as I've got things I need to do without being watched and they own the other copy of the Marauder's Map. But, I was evolving a plan for that too.

At any rate, Ron mumbled something that sounded conciliatory and we picked up our trunks and continued heading upstairs. Out of the corner of my eye I could see all the other students in my year and some out of it observing me like birdwatchers with a new species, whenever they thought I wasn't looking.

Hah. Stick around, kids, and I'll give you a show to remember.

With two exceptions, my first year went smooth as glass. Then again, it would have taken some seriously brain-dead stupidity on my part for it not to. I was an adult in the middle of children, had perks for being a genius of socializing, manipulation, and strategy, and more magical talent and skill than Albus Dumbledore. The only limits on my rate of growth were my access to magical knowledge, and with hundreds of kids moving around the school to keep track of instead of just one and my assurance that Dumbledore did not have me under super special surveillance, I could now dare to explore places that I hadn't before. Such as the Library and the Room of Requirement.

I politely pretended not to notice anything special about Quirrell, followed Dumbledore's little bread crumbs like a good little boy, and earned straight O's in all my classes. I deliberately sandbagged a few percentage points on exams to let Hermione take the lead in theoreticals, but I couldn't hope to disguise my practical aptitude if I tried and I didn't even try.

Rough spot #1 was, of course, Snape. Secure in his position as Dumbledore's indispensable spy and fueled by his ridiculously petty vendetta, he sought out to torment and undermine me in every way he could from the day I first stepped into his class. Of course I was as much a genius at Potions as I was at every other magical subject, and had already swiped the Half-Blood Prince's textbook from the Room of Requirement and absorbed all the material in it besides, but my Acceptables in his classroom would have been 'O plus, somebody get this kid a Potions apprenticeship now!' in anyone else's. And, natch, my Occlumency shields got a workout every time I was in his class. He beat on them for a solid month straight before finally giving up, and I wondered at exactly how he'd report his failures to Dumbledore.

Of course, Snape was too busy congratulating himself on how awesome he was to fail to note that I was carefully saving every returned test, every graded assignment, and every essay I ever did in his class and accumulating them in a nice big file. I couldn't do much with the potions we made in the laboratory, we Vanished those at the end of every class period anyway, but I would have ample chance to show my true level of brewing skill to independent examiners during my OWLs and NEWTs. And I subtly encouraged the other students singled out for Snape's special attention to do likewise, if I could trust them to keep their mouths shut. I amused myself by running a mental betting pool with myself as to whether Snape would even last until my OWL year, or the seeds I was planting in his victim pool regarding documentation and persistent patterns of behavior and Wizarding Examination Authority review from outside Hogwarts sprouted first.

Plus, honestly, the thought that a man of his age and accomplishments had nothing really left to live for except the chance to ruin the homework assignments of eleven-year-olds made him laughable. I certainly wouldn't turn my back on such an accomplished killer in a potential combat situation, but when it came to his power to emotionally move me you might as well have dubbed in the "wa wa wa" of an adult talking in a Charlie Brown cartoon for all the power his hurtful remarks had to actually, well, hurt.

No, rough spot #2 was actually the one that was driving me up the wall. Draco Malfoy was a pathetic little loser in almost every other respect, but when it came to being an aggravating bully he was an idiot savant bordering on a transcendent genius. But I didn't crush him early on because trying to stay off of Dumbledore's radar, remember? I could show myself as a charismatic natural leader, as a spellcasting prodigy, as a highly precocious (if not a bookworm) student, and be considered nothing except the second coming of James Potter. But if everybody who seriously obstructed me suddenly started falling down the stairs or getting eaten by the acromantulas, Albus would start looking at me as the second coming of another student entirely. And I did not want to get pigeonholed in Dumbledore's brain as 'Tom Riddle the Second'.

I mean, I'll be honest. If there was a scenario in that document for doing a self-insert as Tom Riddle, I'd have taken it in a heartbeat. You could fill an entire page with the list of opportunities that guy had had in the palm of his hand and stupidly pissed away without a backwards glance. But, there wasn't. So, I'd do the best I could starting from where I did.

And its not like the Boy-Who-Lived was particularly starved for opportunities either, even if some of them were a bit more delayed gratification.

But I digress. The topic was Draco Malfoy, the worst classmate ever. It was infuriating to watch this little shitstain go around as the prince of the school! If he'd been getting away with it because he had the cunning to, I could have respected that. But he didn't! This is the kid who thought a button saying "Potter Stinks" was a devastatingly subtle social coup, remember? The only reason he wasn't crushed like a bug underneath a pile of his own stupidity was because of his father's wealth and power and Professor Snape covering for him at every opportunity. He was the gold medal winner of Magical Britain's very own Twit Of The Year Award (Junior Division), a walking pile of unearned opportunity and undeserved privilege.

There was some measure of satisfaction in being hailed as the noble Gryffindor hero defending the other students from the big bully and looking better thereby (honestly, did nobody else in Gryffindor even care that Neville was being hexed in the hallways? Guys, even if he's hardly our most well-liked Gryffindor, the fact remains that he's wearing the colors. You can't let people tag on him without retribution or else we're all less safe out there), and in basically proving over and over to Draco that every confrontation between us would involve his bitch ass stepping up to be knocked down.

But Draco never learned. I honestly wondered if he needed to be followed around by a house elf with cue cards reminding him to inhale and exhale in sequence. You could send him whining and screaming in retreat with his legendary battle cry "Wait till my father hears about this!" and he'd just come back the next day, smirking his stupid little smirk as if nothing had happened and he'd never lost anything. He was just so fucking stupid! An empty hollow sack that wouldn't last ten seconds without all of his inherited privilege to shield him from the consequences of his actions, but who would live a long prosperous life and die having bred another generation of twits without fear because the entire system was rigged in his favor forever and ever. He was a walking microcosm of everything I hated about human society. I had no idea how much longer I could keep my cover up if I had to deal with this smirking chimp every time I turned around for the next seven years. And I had to maintain my cover.

But I swear, the urge to just drag him down to the Chamber of Secrets and feed him to the basilisk was getting positively irresistible-

\- I stopped and slowly smiled to myself. Yes. Yes, yes that would do nicely.

Perhaps I wouldn't need a basilisk.

They say that the first time you take a human life it changes you forever. Apparently, "they say" a lot of things.

A casual redirect of Draco's attention to Ron, who absolutely leapt at the chance to do something to stand out in Gryffindor as my social manipulation at the start of the year and bogarting all the chances to stand out in first-year Gryffindor since then had left him languishing in quiet obscurity, the place he most hated to be. (Oh quit complaining Ron, I saved you from the whole Charms classroom incident and accompanying troll disaster with Hermione, that's more than enough karmic recompense.) I didn't even need to manipulate either of them before Draco was having the 'awesomely clever' idea to dare Ron to go look in the 'corridor of certain death' on the third floor. Of course Draco had to come too, and of course Draco was going to secretly duck out and let Ron do it alone and then get him in trouble. Shades of the Wizard's Duel in canon.

All I needed to do was duplicate Neville's feat in canon and be waiting in the Common Room to keep Ron from going anywhere, just as he'd tried to stop the Trio. Of course, my Full Body-Bind was entirely successful and Percy thanked me for not letting Ron get in trouble, or lose Gryffindor any house points, when I handed the fuming Ron over to him. Ron, of course, was absolutely incensed that I stole 'his chance for glory'.

Don't worry, Ron. The lesson you're going to learn about glory will stand you in good stead for the rest of your life.

Said lesson being the sad announcement at breakfast the next morning that that well-known leading student and widely admired role model, Draco Malfoy, had lost his life in a tragic accident last night while out of bounds on a certain third-floor corridor.

What? I know I said that Draco had intended to entirely duck out and let Ron walk into it alone. I also know that Mind Magic made me a dab hand at the Imperius Curse, and Merlin Returned let me teach it to myself with only a few weeks' of practice in the Room of Requirement. It didn't have a specific wand movement and I already knew the incantation, after all.

And Draco wouldn't have the willpower to resist that curse on the best day of his life, much less during his first year, so a simple ambush of him shortly after dinner and a quick Imperius to act normal for the next few hours and then go on a fateful, one-way trip to his death in the jaws of Fluffy the Cerberus forever removed him as an annoyance and a general stain on the planet, and nothing of importance was lost.

Well, Dumbledore faced epic political censure and only just barely managed to keep his job, Fluffy was executed as a dangerous specimen by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Hagrid was inconsolable. And Draco, of course, was now passing through a giant magical dog's digestive tract. Which in addition to killing him also conveniently made it impossible for a certain master Legilimens to examine his mind and realize he'd been under an Imperius Curse.

But, as I said. Nothing of importance was lost.

I spent the next several days carefully assessing my feelings and thoughts using Occlumency. And I came to the realization that I honestly didn't care that Draco Malfoy was dead, and that I was if anything relieved. Even a little pleased. It seemed poetic, and fitting. And it certainly solved the problem, not just for me but for virtually everyone else who had to tolerate him. Even Pansy Parkinson, after her initial grief, seemed in some measure relieved he wasn't around anymore. And Ron realized that the only reason he wasn't dead was because I'd stopped him from going to meet Draco in the third-floor corridor that night. The Weasleys now accepted me as a blood brother, having saved the life of one of their own, and Ron was entirely over his grudge.

... oh crap, I just realized I'd set myself up to be staying at the Burrow for the next several years. But in return for no Draco? Eh, I'd call it a fair exchange. Given that the alternative turned out to be solitary in Hogwarts, perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to arrange to get myself thrown out of the Burrow in the first place.

With the Ministry ordering Dumbledore to dismantle his death gauntlet immediately he had to abandon his plans to set up a trap (and possibly test me) via the Philosopher's Stone.

At any rate, I learned a very important thing about myself during my first year. Specifically, that as near as I could determine I was some kind of sociopath. What an incredible thing to not know about yourself for so long.

Well. No wonder I'd felt so different from the sheep all my life. Or why I felt such a kinship with Tom Riddle since all the way back when I'd first read the Harry Potter novels, and had been so entirely frustrated with what a waste he'd made his life into.

I made a quiet note to myself that if I had a chance to reach a muggle library this summer I needed to do some research on Antisocial Personality Disorder and how the most successful known cases of it had avoided falling into the pitfalls that tripped up all the common run-of-the-mill thugs and killers who'd been like that. I was like hell if I would let something as stupid as different brain chemistry get in the way of my achieving the success that I deserved.

Just so long as I only killed people when I had an actual reason to, I determined. If there was a legitimate point to it. If I started doing people simply because I could, purely for sadistic jollies, I'd be no better than Voldemort.

Who, and it is important that I never forget this, ultimately lost.

My first full summer at the Weasleys went notably more smoothly than my last attempt at staying here. Of course, that's because I wanted it to.

Now, part of me was impatient to actually go enjoy the vast wealth that I had inherited. According to Gringotts I owned a grand manor in the country, another one in downtown London off of Hyde Park, luxury penthouses in several major cities, and a vacation villa in the tropics, and several lesser properties... and that was just on the Potter accounts alone. The Blacks actually had a private island somewhere in the Caribbean, Unplottable and warded against all intrusion. And, of course, I had enough galleons to buy Diagon Alley several times over and more galleons (and pounds, dollars, francs, etc.) pouring in by the truckload every month from my portfolio.

And so far, I've spent maybe a few hundred of it on myself. Oh, my ongoing correspondence with Account Manager Bonecrusher had sent quite a number of galleons on various financial maneuvers hither and yon, and I'd spent a few more myself in school in gestures of calculated generosity, but as far as upgrading my personal lifestyle went all I had to show for it was new robes, new books, new school supplies, and a very nice self-inking quill. I hadn't even been able to purchase a house-elf yet.

Although I had interfered with the flow of canon in several minor respects, such as my flying "accident" preventing me from being a first-year Quidditch player (it hardly left McGonagall in any mood to reward further misadventures on a broom, not that Draco could bait me into chasing him down for a Remembrall anyway) or there being no 'Hermione and the troll' incident (gross stupidity offended me, and the stupidity of alienating one of the only two people who could possibly tutor you to pass a class you were failing was sufficient to make me rein Ron's idiocy in right then and there), it wasn't until after I had disposed of Draco, which was well into spring term, that things had gone entirely off script. Meaning I'd still had Dumbledore stage-manage an encounter with the Mirror of Erised for me over the midwinter holidays, although this time he hadn't given me the Invisibility Cloak to do it with. I had of course told Dumbledore that what I saw in the Mirror was the loving family scene with James and Lily Potter.

But what I had really seen in the Mirror had been something else entirely. And, to be honest, I was growing eager to stop faffing about and be about the process of actually achieving it.

But for as long as Dumbledore was my legal guardian, I couldn't even begin to move in those directions. Not openly, and only very slowly and fitfully even while remaining entirely covert.

It was frustrating. But I accepted that there was nothing I could do about it at present, and concentrated instead on maximizing the opportunities I did have.

I had already gotten in the Weasleys' good books by 'saving Ron's life' but it wasn't until that summer that I was able to not only neutralize any potential problems from the Twins' direction but also get them fully onboard. Making myself sound receptive to the idea of pranking not only gave me an enthusiastic pair of teachers but also acquainted me with a couple of innovative geniuses. I had an Innovation perk, after all, and no better time to start using it then when out of Hogwarts and unmonitored by Dumbledore and with two people who had already been crafting their own unique potions and jinxes and enchanted knick-knacks to actually learn the basics of enchanting and spellcrafting from. The Twins helped get me started, and once I knew the basics I felt entirely confident that self-study and a suitable experimentation budget could take me immeasurably further when the time came.

And when I asked them, as people skilled with enchanted items, to take a look at this old thing I'd found in my family vault I made them entirely mine. Seeing a copy of the Marauder's Map I'd 'inherited from my father' meant that my father must have been one of the Marauders, the Weasley Twins' own personal folk heroes. And at that point it was inevitable that I join them.

That summer also allowed experiments of another kind. With both Dumbledore and Snape at Hogwarts, experimentation in Mind Magic was very dangerous. Even my use of the Imperius Curse on Draco didn't actually involve any Legilimency, the perk in question just gave me more success at the spell. But at the Burrow nobody within a hundred miles or more knew the slightest bit of Occlumency or Legilimency save me, so I had a clear field. And Ron Weasley's mind was not only wide open but so emotional and so not prone to introspection or thoughtful hindsight that I'd have to be very very clumsy indeed before he'd even begin to suspect that some of the thoughts and impulses going through his mind might not be entirely his own. He was nigh-ideal experimentation fodder.

I didn't turn him into a drooling minion, of course. The entire point was to avoid notice. But even small, beneficial compulsions and alterations are still useful practice in actually doing mental compulsions and alterations, and so nobody suspected it was anything other than normal growing up when Ron started not being quite so jealous all the time and began to find an actual motivation to do his homework or read something other than a Quidditch magazine. Baby steps.

And Arthur Weasley was suitable beginner's practice for yet another one of the Mind Magic abilities - the one that would, when fully mastered, allow you to absorb skills and knowledge directly from peoples' heads. Not that I had a particularly burning need for skills such as 'routine Ministry of Magic admin procedures' and 'decursing hexed muggle artifacts' and whatnot, but I certainly needed to master the skills to absorb the skills, as it were. And while Merlin Returned meant I got immeasurably greater benefits per unit time spent learning and practicing, I still had to learn and practice.

With my Legilimency giving free access to the surface thoughts of those around me I was mildly surprised to learn that despite evil, selfish, or greedy Weasleys being a common fanfic trope there was none of that around me. Even Ron's character flaws were not grossly exaggerated from canon, and everyone else was precisely as they appeared to be. Ginny did seem to be less shy and prone to elbows in butter dishes around me, but that was due to my being more approachable than canon Harry.

There was, however, one disturbing note in the middle of all this. And it was one of the reasons I was going so cautiously, in fact.

My efforts to be on my best behavior last year had not been successful in entirely dispelling Dumbledore's suspicions. I had no idea of exactly what had alarmed him, and there wasn't any cliche of Arthur or Molly being paid to spy on me or anything like that, but I could clearly see in their memories that when he was asking them to take me in for the summer he had quite earnestly impressed upon them that they were to call him if anything untoward or odd happened, however innocuous. Furthermore, several typically subtle remarks from Dumbledore about things like troubled childhoods and repressed symptoms and whatnot put the elder Weasleys in prime position to believe that despite my excellent behavior to date, I still would need monitoring... for my own good, of course.

Which is why I couldn't dare to portkey out for even a little while, and why they were almost certainly reading my mail. I admittedly had a secure covert link to Bonesmasher via a pair of charmed journals (available from your friendly neighborhood goblin bankers for a suitable fee), but still. A person would like to be able to overtly act in his best interests instead of having to live in the goldfish bowl. And while the Burrow was an entirely welcoming and comfortable prison, one where the walls weren't even supposed to be visible, Dumbledore was still apparently determined that it be a prison.

So, after spending several weeks carefully thinking it over, I adapted to the situation and went with a fork of my overall strategy tree that I hadn't anticipated using quite this early.

Arranging for Pettigrew to be exposed, interrogated, and sent to Azkaban without looking like I'd had anything to do with it took a bit of arranging but was hardly impossible. When you have meta-knowledge like mine and there's no remote suspicion that you could even begin to know any of it, and have the perks and abilities I do while everybody else thinks the best you can do is first-year spells, and have luck and manipulation perks on your side in addition, its no contest. As near as anyone looking back on events later would know I wasn't even 'coincidentally' involved this time, no being on the scene or lucky spells or anything.

Well, I did spike Peter's rat food that morning with a very mild sedative potion to make sure he was slowed up enough at the critical moment so that Mr. Weasley could reliably stun him after one of Fred and George's pranks 'gone wrong' had 'accidentally' reverted Pettigrew to normal in the middle of the living room, but I could hardly be a suspect in Pettigrew's exposure as me and Ron had been outside riding our brooms at the time. We'd only come running in after all the ruckus started along with the rest of the Weasley stampede. Then Mr. Weasley called the DMLE and that was that. After the big reveal I did message Madam Bones directly to help keep this from being swept under the rug, as we already had an acquaintance from the Dursley investigation and via her niece Susan in my year in Hufflepuff, but that was entirely normal given the circumstances.

I'd timed this whole thing for close enough to start of second term so that Dumbledore would feel like he had ten months to think of a way to keep me from going to live with Sirius. The less time pressure he felt he was under, the better. Because I honestly did not know where this incarnation of Dumbledore would draw the line, or over what. Seeing exactly how much of the law he'd bend or break, if any, to prevent my legal guardianship from reverting to Sirius Black would let me know more about what I was up against.

When Lucius Malfoy didn't show up in the bookstore to slip the Diary into Ginny's bag, I was certain my anonymous tip had worked. My practice with making an Occlumency memory palace was allowing me exact, word-for-word recall of the Harry Potter novels that I'd read in my prior life. And since the exact date of the before-year-two Diagon Alley visit could be determined from looking up the notice about exactly when Gilderoy Lockhart's autograph signing session at Flourish & Blotts would be, and according to the books that was the same day both for the Weasley family's annual Diagon Alley visit... and the day Lucius Malfoy had visited Borgin & Burkes to quickly offload some 'questionable' items and poisons at his favorite Knockturn Alley dealer to avoid having them in his house when Arthur Weasley's office was going to search Malfoy Manor for illegal artifacts.

And so when somebody knows that day in advance and carefully crafts a letter to appear as if it was written by a recent Hogwarts graduate who didn't want to name themselves and risk Malfoy retribution who'd happened to overhear something, and owls it to an 'old classmate' named Nymphadora Tonks who was now an Auror trainee, whose training supervisor was a Master Auror named Alastor Moody, who was a cantankerous old bastard who couldn't be bought for any amount of money and bore Lucius Malfoy a deep personal grudge as one of the 'ones who got away' from the first Wizarding War... well, then what happens is that Lucius Malfoy gets arrested by the Aurors at Borgin & Burkes for possession of questionable items and poisons. Whoops.

I am telling you, Manipulative is the best perk ever.

Sure enough, Mr. Weasley was in very high spirits the next day when he came from work as it was all over the office that Lucius Malfoy had finally been caught red-handed. And while the slick bastard did eventually manage to get out from under the charges without serving any jail time, it cost him greatly in both money and favors and left him looking far too suspicious to become a rising star in Ministry politics now, no matter how much money he had. Mission accomplished.

Sadly, the lack of being called to Professor Dumbledore's office later to get my scar examined hinted strongly that the Diary wasn't on Lucius when he was taken. Odd. Wouldn't he have needed it to try and slip into Ginny's bag? Admittedly he wouldn't have Draco along now to give himself the excuse of doing Draco's school shopping so as to bump into the Weasleys in Flourish & Blotts, but nothing would have stopped the man from simply going there and buying something to read for himself. It was a general bookstore, after all.

Ah well, Bellatrix Lestrange would have to die at some point anyway so Sirius or I could inherit her vault and we'd get the Goblet, so if worst comes to worst I arrange something similar for Lucius and then its just Narcissa standing between us and going through Malfoy Manor with a fine-toothed comb.

My second year at Hogwarts started with Professor Dumbledore presenting me my own Invisibility Cloak, along with a heartfelt speech as to how sorry he was that he did not turn it over immediately but as an educator he felt a responsibility to not give items to students that would facilitate rulebreaking. However, being very impressed with my studiousness and good character, he felt that I could be trusted with it now instead of at a later age.

Right. Pull the other one, Albus, its got bells on. What you're doing is giving me a longer rope to see if I hang myself with it. I know perfectly damn well that the only thing on Earth that actually can defeat this Cloak is magic cast by the Elder Wand, which you own, so I'm sure you've got this thing rigged with tracking charms six ways from Sunday.

Good thing I'd become a member of the Weasley Pranking Team, then. Thanks to that, I had a perfect reason for sneaking around the school and being up to all sorts of mischief... all sorts of innocent mischief. Dumbledore could follow me around as I used the Cloak all night and never see me doing anything worse than the sort of hijinks that he not only had long since accepted from the Marauders or the Weasley Twins but that would reassure him that I was nothing more than the second coming of James Potter after all, just with a slightly more scholastic twist.

After all, who would suspect that anybody who owned the most powerful Cloak of Invisibility on Earth would have wasted a single galleon on buying one of the common ones? (You'd be amazed at how readily the goblins would act as your personal shoppers for only a few hundred extra galleons per item.) Or that someone would deliberately wear only a lesser cloak on their really secret activities, and save the Deathly Hallow only for harmless things?

When you're already under suspicion you should never go for the appearance of innocence. That just makes them wonder how you're hiding all the suspicious stuff. Instead, you should go for making yourself look guilty of a minor, harmless crime. Because if you can't successfully hide something even that trivial from surveillance then you couldn't possibly be hiding anything more important, now could you?

As previously mentioned, my staged 'flying accident' had come at the price of not getting me a waiver to own a broom or play on a Quidditch team first year. However, any second year student was allowed to buy a broom and try out for their House team, and so Nimbus 2000 in hand I was out and seeking. Since Gryffindor was absolutely desperate for a seeker of any talent whatsoever, I made the team.

I admittedly had no perks for Quidditch success other than the reflexes that spilled over from Dark Lord, but its not like Harry Potter wasn't alrady a natural Seeker. And hey, it was only quidditch. This was a place I could afford to fail, the match scores didn't really affect anything in the larger picture. And I was a human being and not just a pure plotting machine, so it was nice to just do something for the fun of it. And as a pracitcal benefit, it helped maintain that whole 'James Potter 2.0, Except Not A Prat' image I was going for.

Lockhart was still Lockhart, but outside of getting in a tiny bit of foreshadowing for the D.A. (assuming I ended up needing a D.A. later) by helpfully tutoring people who asked me, as I was a DADA natural, I didn't bother to do anything about it. It wasn't my problem and it wasn't holding me back at all. No Draco Malfoy meant no snake in the Dueling Club incident meant no revelation of my Parseltongue, and I'd already mentioned that there was no Diary out and about.

No, really. I kept an eye out, both directly and via networking, for any firsties showing suspicious tendencies such as Ginny did in her first year in canon. There weren't any. I paid particular attention to Luna Lovegood because fanfic tropes and named characters, but she hadn't ended up with it either. And I did earn more 'What a good boy!' points by being the person who found out that Luna was being horribly bullied and taking it to staff members who actually cared (read: not McGonagall) to have a stop put to it.

Once I realized that the plot of book two was totally non-operative, I simply took one of Hagrid's chickens down to the Chamber of Secrets, used a compulsion charm to make it crow on cue, and removed the threat of Slytherin's monster for all time. And while I didn't have the item for butchering a magical creature, Bonecrusher could discreetly hire a crew to do it for me and I could let them in via the back entrance that the basilisk used to go hunting in the Forbidden Forest. I didn't have the time for any lengthy Chamber of Secrets archaeology, but I marked that down as a possible to-do item for later.

What with Draco's death, the measure of shit that Lucius had slopped around on everybody he could remotely blame for Draco's death, and my whole 'second coming of James Potter' shtick you can imagine that Snape was insufferable this year. Particularly to me. Because oh, was he ever.

No, I didn't kill him. Two for two in suspicious deaths over two years, with the main common denominator of them both being 'Slytherins who hated Harry Potter', would hold a giant neon sign over my head saying "POTENTIAL SERIAL KILLER". Even the Ministry of Magic might actually notice, it would be that obvious. Plus, unlike Draco Snape was not a remotely easy target. When it came time for Snape to die, and I'd already decided even before I entered Hogwarts for the first time that he was going to die, I would need to either be at full power or else have an entire war going on around me to help kill him with. I damn sure wasn't going to try it as a 12-year-old.

After all, canon Harry had gone six years with this prick without snapping and I was like fuck going to be weaker than him. I also wasn't going to be as spineless as him, but I would still discipline myself to wait several more years before ending this greasy piece of shit like he deserved rather than wreck all my plans with premature murder. Besides, after I shared pensieve moments of some of the worst moments of Snape with Sirius, I might well end up having the man murdered for me.

Speaking of Sirius, while not yet old enough for Hogsmeade weekends I was still escorted off-campus during one of them to go meet Sirius where he was recuperating in St. Mungo's from his Azkaban experience, because he was would be my new legal guardian as soon as he obtained a clean bill of health. So obviously it would be a good idea for us to actually get acquainted. Which meant Dumbledore never said a word about doing it, but Percy of all people was good for pompously advising me of the good sense in trying to get to know the man before being dumped on his doorstep with all my possessions and moving in. (The art of indirectly nudging people to openly give me advice that I'd already decided to accept was something I was getting a lot of mileage out of.) So, the last two surviving Marauders (Pettigrew had killed himself shortly after arriving at Azkaban, unable to bear the presence of the Dementors after the Ministry had installed anti-animagus wards in his cell to keep him from escaping that way) met the Son of Prongs, and were overjoyed to hear that I was already starting out as a member of the current generation's Hogwarts pranking team.

Getting Sirius to actually use some of his rusty old skills re: surviving intrigue as a Black to start paying people off to monitor his hospital treatment and suchlike was as simple as telling him the tale of Lucius Malfoy's attempt to gain custody of me back in first year, and his recent brushes with the law. Sirius could add two plus zero to get four from there, and with Remus' help start putting feelers out in case anyone was bribed to interfere with his treatment. Which would inhibit any possible action by Dumbledore in that regard as well. I'd already met Andromeda Tonks and her family briefly in the year one custody hearing, as they were one of the failed candidates, but now I met them again via the family reunion at Sirius' bedside.

What, just because I was a sociopath didn't mean I had to be a hateful asshole to everybody I met. That was another one of Tom Riddle's failures. When you've got this many people - talented, powerful, intelligent people - who want to believe you're a good boy and a beloved family member, why disagree? Cripes, even Tom used to understand this at one time, witness his charm offensive while still in Hogwarts. Its like he just up and abandoned that one day.

That is, by the way, why I never seriously intended to make a Horcrux. It was a common fanfic trope that mutilating his soul led to insanity led to Tom Riddle not having the fucking brains to just not become the Dark Lord but instead publicly discover the Chamber of Secrets, be discovered thereby as the lost Heir of Slytherin, and ride the fame, fortune, and supposedly pureblood glory to becoming Minister of Magic before he was 40.

At any rate, second year and the whole situation around Sirius allowed me to chart this Dumbledore's ethical limitations. And I was ecstatic to realize that I'd apparently gotten a very-close-to-canon Dumbledore. He never tried anything more to split me off from Sirius and retain direct guardianship other than emotional manipulation and I-am-very-disappointed-my-boy and appeals to Sirius' fears about my safety. (The orderly who'd been bribed to slip a little something into Sirius' hospital food was almost certainly Malfoy's, not Dumbledore's). Dumbledore even used a deliberately dropped secret to try and guilt-trip Sirius and play on his protectiveness of me by explaining how the blood protections had used to keep me totally safe but were now gone due to the Dursley situation and wouldn't it be better to just keep me at Hogwarts full-time?

snerk Okay, that had to be Luck of the Devil there for me. Make it easy for me, why don't you Albus?

You see, while he was recovering nobody had actually gotten around to telling Sirius about exactly where I'd been the first eleven years of my life, or why it ended. Deliberately in my case, and for the very obvious reason that nobody wanted to be the person standing near him when he finally found out about the Dursleys and the abuse scandal of the century in other peoples' cases. Well, Andromeda had done the responsible thing and give him an outline of events, but 'they had custody taken away when the Ministry finally investigated the situation' still doesn't mention beatings, starvings, whippings, wild dogs, or all the other things that provoked the Ministry of Magic to actually toss Vernon and Petunia through the Veil.

So, when Dumbledore brought up the whole blood protections thing, that begged the obvious question in Sirius' mind of 'Why did he have to leave the Dursleys to begin with?' And, of course, when that question was answered - in detail - Sirius not only was 200% determined to never let Dumbledore make a single decision about my care again (Dumbledore being the person who'd sent me to the Dursleys in the first place, after all) but threw the man out of his house.

Eight-ball in the corner pocket. Outside of school, good-bye Dumbledorean Troubles.

The summer in between year two and year three was the best. I was now fully in Sirius' custody, and Sirius' idea of 'adult supervision' was not quite "free-range kid" - there were, after all, legitimate security concerns in my case - but was very much "have fun!".

In addition, between the wards on Grimmauld Place and Sirius' casual disregard for the Underage Magic laws I could freely practice magic over the summer (even at the Burrow Molly didn't let us do that, although we were safe from the underage magic monitors there - me and the Twins had had to sneak around her) and had Sirius, Remus, and Tonks to practice magic with. Since Sirius' idea of the 'proper' amount of self-defense that an aspiring young Potter should know is "as much as he can possibly learn", Merlin Returned plus Dark Lord plus access to two veteran Order of the Phoenix members and an Auror trainee all throwing it at me as fast as I could catch it in private tutoring added up to 'I came out of that summer ready to not only ace the DADA NEWT but actually fight adult Death Eaters toe-to-toe'.

And, of course, I could visit the Potter properties so long as one of the grown-ups was with me, as well as go and visit my friends and sleep overnight. And come and go to Diagon Alley whenever. I shared the secret of my Lordship Ring with Sirius as part of asking him, as Lord Black, to help me start learning what the Lord of an Ancient and Noble House should know. Despite his own disdain for all that protocol stuff he still knew it, and was wililng to teach it. But the Ring also assured him that I could safely portkey away from trouble if need be, so, I finally had a chance to go and visit places and do things. Off of most of the surveillance grid.

Third year started out awesome. Lockhart was fired at the end of the second year for having worn out his welcome by being an insufferable hack who the rest of the staff would gladly have fed to the giant squid and for not being able to hex his way out of a paper bag, and was replaced by Professor Lupin. Snape sulked worse and worse but with a staff member solidly on my side, and without Lucius Malfoy covering for him at Board of Governors meetings anymore (they hadn't been on speaking terms ever since Draco had died sneaking out after hours from a dormitory Snape was supervising), he could be kept in check. In fact, Lucius had apparently resigned from the Board of Governors this year. Hah! Political fallout still falling, Lucius?

While I'd have to wait a year to actually start enjoying the benefits of Supernaturally Attractive, this was the age at which the girls would start filling out and giving previews of what's to come. Damn, fanfic cliche hotties ahoy. I mentally noted down the short list of ladies I'd hit up later and started making acquaintances now as I went on with the mluti-year process of setting up my eventual nomination as the most inevitable Head Boy in Hogwarts history.

Setting myself up with Sirius had been a great move. I could actually show precocious spell knowledge now and not just 'the Hogwarts curriculum, totally mastered' and not freak Dumbledore, because he'd assume I was just getting it from Sirius. With Sirius already out and Pettigrew dead, there was no drama this year, no Dementors, no Prisoner of Azkaban bullshit. Just a nice, quiet school year. I collected friends and acquaintances in all houses, helped the downtrodden deal with bullies, helped the twins with their pranks, and deliberately let Dumbledore catch me in minor things to avoid him noticing my major things. Such as visiting the Room of Requirement as often as possible for advanced training, sequestering the Diadem Horcrux in a nice safe place, or using what the Weasley Twins had taught me to successfully raid the Restricted Section.

And then, one night towards the end of third year, I awoke from a nightmare. A nightmare of Lucius Malfoy in an Albanian forest, slitting a kidnapped Mad-Eye Moody's throat from ear to ear to get the blood of an enemy. And using a certain Diary Horcrux to substitute for the bone of a father and the blood of a servant. And of Lord Voldemort being reborn.

Oh fuck me. Damn, I am so glad I left the scar horcrux in (I could, after all, remove it at any time thanks to the scenario terms) for use as a possible early warning if need be.

Because shit just got real.

I sat upright in my bunk in the Gryffindor dorms, feverishingly thinking it through with the focus and intellect of a Modern-Day Alexander. What were my options?

My first option was to blitz Tom in the surprise round. I could in theory destroy Voldemort and the bulk of the Death Eaters within two hours, starting right now and still in my pajamas. Snape would soon enough leave to answer the summons of all his Death Eaters that Voldemort was no doubt in the process of doing right now, and as one of my research projects I'd long since worked the bugs out of a clever little improvised magical WMD involving a mandrake and a Sonorous charm for an instant-kill of everything without hearing protection inside a half-mile radius. Five minutes to nip down to the greenhouses and swipe one of Professor Sprout's adult mandrakes, one minute of wandwork to assemble the trap, a quick ambush of Snape on his way out using the Marauder's Map to catch him alone in the corridors, and a little mind magic to have him not wonder at the gizmo's sudden presence in his pockets and give him a cue to detonate it at the right time. The part where Tom still had Horcruxes extant was irrelevant - the last time he was destroyed his Horcruxes still didn't keep him from being rendered mission-killed for thirteen years, and I wouldn't need thirteen days to get rid of all the Horcruxes since Lucius had already consumed the Diary to fuel Tom's resurrection, the mandrake bomb would take out Nagini as well, and I already knew where all the rest of them were.

And if all I was concerned about was defeating Voldemort, I'd have gone straight for this plan. Sadly, Tom's defeat was only one part of my overall ambitions. I would at minimum see myself positioned as the new Albus Dumbledore of the next age. The wizard whose power was unquestioned, whom everyone respected and trusted, famed for defeating the Dark Lord and with no rivals at all. One translation of the term "invincible" from the Japanese meant "man without enemies", and I was certainly up for that! The problem is, if I destroy Voldemort via stealth and before breakfast this morning I don't get the whole 'hero of the age' thing from how he went down, Dumbledore and the Ministry are still perfectly intact, and I either look like the next Dark Lord or else everybody's all paranoid about Voldemort's "unknown" rival and I can't work on anything because too much climate of alertness. So, I'd have to take a pass on this one.

Second option was to blitz Dumbledore. Go with the ambushing of Snape again, except this time just Crucio him into a driveling mess. Levitate him up to Dumbledore's chambers (even my public persona knew that much magic by now), knock on the door, be all concerned and panicked about 'I was sneaking out for a prank and found Professor Snape comatose in the hall mumbling something about Voldemort, and the Dark Mark, and, and, I thought I should bring him to you instead of Madam Pomphrey, and, and...', and then AK Dumbledore in the back while he's busy examining Snape. Leave the corpse to be found the next morning, take the Elder Wand, nip Snape's corpse down to the Chamber of Secrets and dispose of it, and go back to bed. Next morning the 'fugitive' Snape is the obvious suspect for Dumbledore's murder and the news of Dumbledore's death will prompt Tom to just hurry up and take over the Ministry right away. Sirius evacuates me to another continent, I 'nobly' help as many of my fellow students do likewise, we spend a couple years in secret training up, I come back and kick Tom's ass. The Lordship Ring and my several properties and a handy Fidelius Charm or two would let me portkey into and out of the UK no matter what Tom does to keep me out, so I just nip the Horcruxes beforehand in a series of quick secret raids. Eventually I defeat Voldemort, the expats come home and rebuild the Ministry, I'm the hero of the age and with Voldemort having conveniently removed every possible rival for me except Dumbledore and himself. Who I took care of myself. Bam bam bam, then I spend the money.

... which again had one little flaw keeping it from being the plan I went for. Specifically, if I was in a fanfic that had Voldemort even marginally on the ball, he'd rapidly deduce enough of what was going on to put him well into unpredictable territory. Which meant that allowing him a big victory early on and planning to win it back in the following rounds was a very risky idea. Lucius had just given me a lesson in people going off-script, after all. And since Tom would know perfectly well that he hadn't had Dumbledore assassinated even if the rest of the world would readily blame him, and would find it very very suspicious that Snape hadn't been willing to come to him if he'd been willing to kill Dumbledore... well, he probably wouldn't figure out the whole thing right away but he'd certainly figure out something was going on, and I didn't quite think I was up to the job of solo'ing Voldemort yet. Which means I had to either keep Tom in a reliably predictable holding pattern or else keep Dumbledore active to checkmate him with, and this plan had neither of those benefits.

Which meant plan three. sigh Well, I'd gotten this far with the good little Gryffindor boy image, so might as well suck it up and keep rolling with it.

I reported the vision, put my memories of the dream into a pensieve, answered questions, and sat still for Dumbledore's scan of my scar. All the grown-ups got together and were Very Very Concerned, reforming the Order of the Phoenix and everything.

Of course, unlike canon Amelia Bones very soon invited herself and the DMLE to the party. I was amused to note that it wasn't just my hand-off to her via Susan (who I had 'innocently' told about my nightmare and my fears for the future, given that we were basically walking each other to Hogsmeade by this point and who could really blame a young man for sharing a secret with a nice young lady he was walking out with? Not Sirius!) but also because something had butterflied Tonks a little and she'd reported to her chain of command independently of me. On further reflection, it had probably been Moody's death that had influenced her decision. Without him there to advise her to have more faith in Albus' judgement, and with the Black family already angry at Dumbledore for his misjudgement in my case... yes, it was obvious in hindsight that she'd call it in. Indeed, Sirius might have advised her to as a way of stalemating Dumbledore from being entirely in control of the plans.

A lot of things were being obvious to me in hindsight that weren't in foresight. Case in point, not anticipating that killing Draco and leaving Lucius Malfoy - the original bloodline-obsessed aristocratic family patriarch himself - heirless would drive him notably off-script from canon. Right. Well, I'd told myself at the time that emotionally-driven murders without a purpose were a bad idea, and so I suppose it was gratifying to learn that I was more right even than I knew. Even if things were being just a little inconvenient right now.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...

Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...

And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...

And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

The words of the prophecy sphere echoed once in the cavernous halls of the Department of Mysteries and fell silent, as all those standing around listened in horror. Or resignation. Or in my case, relief. Finally, it was out there and I could stop at least partly with having to do all the 'ordinary boy' shit.

Dumbledore was the only person who had heard the entire Prophecy, but James and Lily had of course been told about it as part of persuading them to go into hiding. And they had, of course, told Sirius about it. They hadn't told him what the Prophecy was exactly, they'd been sworn to secrecy on that knowledge, but Sirius had known the entire time that a Prophecy concerning me existed. No wonder he'd cooperated so much in my desire to get early dueling training. And, of course, when Dumbledore was all 'no, no, I can't possibly share useful knowledge in time, I'm Albus Dumbledore!' when asked, Director Bones - who was, with Sirius' smirking cooperation, inviting herself to Order meetings whether Albus wanted her there or not - was the first person to suggest simply going to the DoM to hear their copy.

"Dear God," she said, horrified. "This means-"

The nameless Unspeakable who'd escorted us here coughed politely. "It does not necessarily mean that Mister Potter must single-handedly defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Director Bones. It merely mandates that no defeat of him will be final unless Mister Potter's hand is the one that deals the killing blow. In theory Professor Dumbledore could duel the enemy until he could no longer move and have Harry simply cast a hex at the helpless target, and that would still fulfill the Prophecy."

Wait, somebody in the Potterverse actually had the common sense to figure that out on their own? Did I accidentally click on the menu for 'badass spy agency Unspeakables' and not remember doing it?

"You are still speaking of using a young boy as your deliberate assassin," Dumbledore pontificated. "Such an act is monstrous!"

"As opposed to suffering final defeat at the hands of that murdering maniac?" Amelia rounded on him angrily. "I know perfectly well that Harry is just as old my niece, and I know damn well how I'd feel if some Prophecy told me I had to put a wand in Susan's hand and give her a shove into a duel with him! But-"

"If she'd been born a Sam instead of a Susan you probably would have had to, Amy," Sirius pointed out coldly. "Your brother defied him three times and more as well and she was born in the last week of July. So don't be so damn quick to toss my ward out there just because you're happy its not yours."

"Sirius, I'm sorry," she said sadly. "But even with all the help in the world, can you think of any way that fucking Prophecy can be interpreted where we don't have to make it Harry's fight as well? We are in each other's shoes here, as you just said! And we both know just how badly He-Who-... how Voldemort has to be stopped."

Everybody present politely ignored Sirius turning and kicking a nearby shelf full of prophecies so hard it almost tipped over, although Dumbledore did have to use a quick sticking charm to actually prevent that disaster.

"He's still too young," Tonks said. "Me and Sirius have been already teaching him a bit about dueling on our off time but he's going to need the whole Auror course before we can even dream of shoving him out there, Boss. Well, at least the practical bits. I think we can skip Basic Law Enforcement Administration and Magical Forensics and all the rest."

Beautiful and with a brain! I just hope Supernaturally Attractive means she'll like younger men once the puberty fairy gets around to me. Sorry, Remus, not this time.

"Nymphadora, I am-"

"Recruit Auror Tonks to you, Headmaster! ... given our circumstances." Amelia's lip quirked up briefly at seeing Dumbledore dressed down by an Auror cadet still in her last year.

"-still shocked that people here seem so quick to burden a young boy with-" Oh you fucking hypocrite. You of all people would say that, given what your plan in canon and almost certainly here actually was? God, do I wish I could have gone with the plan where I gave you a quick AK up the strap instead!

"You've known about this Prophecy since Professor Trelawney first gave it to you, sir." I interjected resolutely. "You've had more time to think about it than anybody else in this room, since before I was even born."

"Damn straight you have, Dumbledore." Sirius broke in heatedly, easily grasping where I was going. "So since you're the one who's had all that time to plan and who's supposed to know everything, then if you've got a better idea let's fucking hear it! I'm the person here who actually agrees with you that throwing Harry out there to fight is a horrible idea - no offense, Harry - so if you've got anything besides that to give us then I'm all ears!"

Dumbledore looked at the intent gazes of the Director of the DMLE, Lord Black, a senior Unspeakable, an angry Metamorphmagus, and the Boy-Who-Lived, and decided that perhaps this wasn't the best audience for his usual platitudes and obfuscations. And its hardly like 'Well, we need to kill Harry first so as to destroy the Horcrux in his head and clear the way for me to be able to defeat Tom once the Prophecy is fulfilled by the death of either' would go over well in this audience. So, he didn't really have anything to say.

After allowing enough time to make it plain to all and sundry that Dumbledore didn't have shit, I broke the deadlock by using the dramatic moment to pull a Frodo Baggins and heroically volunteer. 'I will take the Ring, though I know not the way' and all that. Exactly what the brave, noble, and heroic Boy-Who-Lived would be expected to do.

Aaand, there we go. Voldemort can do whatever the fuck he wants while people either prudently get the fuck out of Britain or stay and heroically die, and I'm safe in a Fidelius-shielded boot camp. As soon as I'm ready, I heroically win. All I need to make sure of is that Sirius or Amelia (or both) is involved in the group of people making decisions for me, to head off Fudge or Dumbledore-level stupidity, and I'm as set as anyone can be in this situation.

I guess Luck of the Devil decided I was owed a good turn or two to even out the whole Lucius thing, or else canon really would have gone that easily if Dumbledore had just shared information with people outside the Order early on. Because once it finally got going, plan three worked like a rocket sled going downhill on greased rails.

Since Sirius didn't remotely like dealing with Kreacher anyway it was easy for me to 'borrow' him from Sirius more and more to help look after all my vacant properties, until he was entirely my elf instead of Sirius'. So, I'd finally picked up my homicidally loyal house-elf "in game" even though I didn't have the points. I might have missed out on Dobby due to the Malfoy fork but Kreacher was older, sneakier, had been used by the Black family on down the years for enough rough stuff to be a minor black-ops department of his own, and had a very obvious big red putton I could push to win his eternal loyalty.

In the course of getting to know my new servant I 'just happened' (ahem) to find out all about the death of Regulus Black, which led us to the amulet in Grimmauld Place, which got the topic of Horcruxes publicly on the table and set Team White Hats to the job of hunting them down. As well as earning Kreacher's eternal gratitude for helping him fulfill Master Regulus' last command, of course.

I 'remembered' a spooky diadem I'd seen in the Room of Requirement once that 'felt just like that locket', which had Dumbledore immediately go and dispatch it with a bit of Fiendfyre. The job of getting the Goblet Horcrux out of Bellatrix's vault was a stopper, given that unless Bellatrix went and fetched it for us, or we killed enough of the Black Family tree (i.e., her and Narcissa) to leave Sirius or Andromeda as her only heir, we couldn't get it out. The fanon trope of 'Goblins hate Horcruxes' apparently wasn't on in this timeline... so long as you paid your vault fee and it didn't ooze anything unpleasant outside to damage the rest of the bank, they really didn't care what you kept in there and wouldn't let anyone except the depositor or their designated agent into the vault to fetch anything.

... and then I dope slapped myself for an idiot and simply asked Kreacher if Bellatrix had ever used him to go fetch things or money from her vault back in the day. Sure enough, she had... and she'd never taken him off the authorized access list. Well, that was easy. Explaining how I'd known about it was as simple as ordering Kreacher to lie and say that he'd brought up the topic of 'spooky thing like amulet that Kreacher had seen in Mistress Bellatrix's vault' to me first. Kreacher loved lying to Dumbledore anyway.

Since Dumbledore knew how many Horcruxes Tom had made (Amelia simply hit up Slughorn with a warrant for questioning as a material witness, then traded him immunity from prosecution in return for fucking telling us already), between the Diary, the Locket, the Diadem, and the Cup we knew that was four down. From my vision we knew that Nagini was with Voldemort, and of course the sixth Horcrux was (unknown to anyone save me and Dumbledore) currently in my head. That just left the Resurrection Stone.

Now, the start of year four saw me officially withdrawn from Hogwarts due to 'reasons of health' as I entered the aforementioned Fidelius-protected boot camp, which was located in Grimmauld Place. Without Moody available Amelia assigned another one of her veteran Aurors to me, and I was amused to note it was the ill-omened Dawlish whose canon role was to get launched by Dumbledore and then later on by Augusta Longbottom. Since Sirius wasn't letting anyone, especially strange Ministry people, near me without magical verification of their loyalty I could at least be assured he wasn't a Death Eater in this continuity. And in fact, since he wasn't any kind of Occlumens I could be sure of more than that.

Now, Dumbledore tried to hedge his own bet here by making the other one of my instructors Bill Weasley. But that was just more luck for me. I'd already been experimenting with the 'absorbing knowledge' trick of Mind Magic off of the Weasleys a bit, particularly Arthur, Fred, and George. By now I'd fairly well mastered that art, especially with Merlin Returned and its massive booster for training times. So I salivated at the chance to get a veteran curse-breaker's skills by osmosis, on top of a veteran Auror's. And I did.

The details of Voldemort's second terror campaign are interesting to historians but not really relevant to me, so suffice it to say that it went on for sixteen months while I finished training myself up to the full potential of the Dark Lord perk. The Ministry fell on month ten of that, leaving us with six months of living like outlaws... but thanks to the Fidelius on the place, and more common sense than canon re: picking Secret-Keepers and controlling traffic in and out, outlaws who at least didn't have to go live in a tent. Between my Lordship Ring and Kreacher I could still get in and out of the compound whenever I wanted, and so as soon as I'd learned about Curse-Breaking from Bill (unknown to him) to make a run at the Ring Horcrux, I did. I defused the booby traps, popped out the Resurrection Stone to add to my Cloak, and left the ring and its nasty curse still there in case Dumbledore happened on by later.

Dumbledore and I didn't interact much during that period of time, him busy publicly protecting Hogwarts and showing the flag and being 'the only one he ever feared' and in general wasting his time like he had in canon. Not that he didn't claim a lot of credit for the special training the 'Chosen One' was undergoing but in reality? Too squeamish. Even in canon he couldn't do more than show Harry a lot of home movies about Voldemort's early life.

Which I did still have to sit through, by the way, although Sirius at least made him bring the pensieve to Grimmauld Place instead of trucking me to Hogwarts.

As a very pleasant side note Supernaturally Attractive finally kicked in, and I did mention that one of my assistant instructors and minders in boot camp was a vivacious young Metamorphmagus, yes? Happy fifteenth birthday to me! I'd gone for the 'being highly magically powerful is just damn sexy, like, actual aura level sexy' when I took that perk instead of actually going for Veela blood or anything, and, well, you spend that much time cooped up together and getting all sorts of sweaty exercise, you... end up getting some sweaty exercise. Ahem.

So, yes, as boot camps went it could have been far, far worse. :)

As it turned out, the dramatic final confrontation was in Little Hangleton. How apropos.

We didn't exacly control the timing; we went off a report Snape brought back (still had no clue what side he was ultimately on, still didn't care) that Voldemort had gone on a rampage after Bellatrix had reported something missing from her vault. Well, I guess she had to notice sometime.

At this point we knew that Voldemort would immediately recheck every Horcrux he had, but only take along one or two of his very most trusted (such as Bellatrix) to do it with, meaning 'ambush Tom at the site of the Ring Horcrux' was so obvious a tactic that even Dumbledore couldn't miss it. And so, with a final goodbye kiss for luck from both Tonks and Susan (ah, Supernaturally Attractive, it makes the ladies so open-minded for you), Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, and I set out for the final confrontation. Amelia and Tonks and Kingsley and all the rest of her surviving Aurors and the Order were needed for the simultaneous raids on Death Eater strongpoints to be conducted as soon as word came in that Voldemort was dead, so it was me and the big gun himself along to do for Tom while Sirius and Remus would handle whatever escorts Voldemort might bring.

Sure enough it was pretty much a Black Family reunion that night, as Sirius and Bellatrix restaged their fateful duel from canon. Only this time Sirius was in no mood to fuck around and there were no handy Veils of Death for him to fall into. And when push came to shove, he was the better wand and had had several years to recuperate from Azkaban, while she'd had only a few months. So, that handled that.

Remus didn't do quite so well vs. Lucius Malfoy, who was the other backup wand Voldemort had brought. However, its damn tough to kill a werewolf so he still held in long enough for Sirius to finish up and come to his aid.

But that was all stuff I found out in the after-action report. When it came to the final showdown I needed all my concentration for Tom. Because say what you might about Voldemort's poor grasp of leadership, strategy, tactics, or propaganda, when it came to magical ass kicking the man had nothing to be ashamed of.

Of course, neither did I. And neither did Dumbledore. And since I (unlike Dumbledore) remembered that Tom liked to Apparate out of fights he didn't like the odds of, I'd remembered to throw down an anti-Apparition Jinx.

I let Dumbledore take the lead as I stayed on the flanks and kept going for the double team, taking a moment out in passing to headshot Nagini. (Jesus wept, Tom, you carry one of your Horcruxes to fight scenes? Fucking brilliant move there.) Tom pulled a backup plan out of his hat and called in some Dementors he'd had in strategic reserve, and I went for the huge Expecto Patronum to hold them off while Tom and Albus had their final dramatic solo confrontation.

Ultimately, the battle was decided by a simple, simple tripping jinx. Specifically, the one I sent at Dumbledore's back at the wrong instant. It wasn't even powerful enough to trip him, but a single moment's hesitation during a magical duel between archmage-level equals is all it takes. Dumbledore was a half-step off the mark in the clinch and so Tom put the Killing Curse right in his X-ring.

Whoops. :)

The distraction of Tom's cry of triumph at Dumbledore's death is, ironically, what allowed Sirius to get the kill shot in on Lucius, but that left him and Remus both battered, exhausted, and too far away to interfere as the Dark Lord dispatched The Only One He'd Ever Feared and turned his wrath to the brave yet outmatched fifteen-year-old boy who now had to fight the archvillain alone, after his mentor had fallen.

Just as planned. Because as anybody who has watched any anime ever knows, this is the moment at which the legend is born.

Tom came expecting a fifteen-year-old prodigy. Someone basically as good as he'd been at that age, exceptional even by the standards of adult wizards but no match for the experienced Dark Lord that he was now. And what he got was someone more powerful than him or Dumbledore on the best day of their lives, who had ROB-granted cheats, the combined skills of multiple veterans, years of hard practice and training (including the kind that leaves actual scars, the best kind), and the fearlessness of the slightly insane. And he'd already used up a lot of his energy fighting Albus to the finish, because let's face it, the one thing you can't say about Dumbledore is that the man was not legitimately one of the greatest wizards to ever live. While I'd held back and was almost entirely fresh, and in addition to the ridiculous mana reserves of Merlin Returned also had the endurance of youth.

I didn't even need any of my several backup plans and pre-prepared cheats to put him down and end him then and there. As of that moment only the scar in my head tethered Tom Riddle to this mortal coil at all, and I could and did get rid of that as soon I had a moment alone. It was as easy as AK'ing myself in the face and then just shaking it off, after all. That's what the Jumper-Who-Lived scenario said would happen.

The Defeater of Grindelwald was dead. The Dark Lord was dead. Long live the Chosen One.

With the fall of Voldemort and both of his top lieutenants in the same day, Amelia's DMLE holdouts and the Order of the Phoenix had no problem taking apart the rest of his rotten 'Death Ministry'. She was made Acting Minister and put in charge of the reclamation, and the survivors buried the dead, condemned the guilty, re-opened Hogwarts, and went back to work.

I was recognized as a fully adult wizard and Lord Potter before I was sixteen, as it came along with my Order of Merlin First Class. I did end up marrying Susan but also having Line Continuation Contracts with several other girls, as well as visiting some happy female friends (such as Tonks) on the side. My massively powerful sexy wizard aura kept everybody perfectly content with the arrangement, and I was of course the greatest hero of the age.

I didn't go professional Quidditch player after graduating but instead devoted myself to being a fulltime businesswizard, 'restoring the Potter fortunes'. Between that and my multiple Wizengamot votes from all my Lordships I was more than busy enough. I encouraged Hermione to go into the Ministry and content herself with pushing through her reforms, gaining her support in return for my Wizengamot votes. If I didn't agree with her ideas I 'voted my conscience' and told her so up front, which she could accept.

The Dark houses stayed out of my way because Amelia's rather thorough mop-up of the Death Eaters post-Voldy had taken out all the incorrigibles anyway and the rest were in no way going to fuck with a recognized Ancient and Noble Lord of multiple houses who walked 99% unscathed out of a fight that both Dumbledore and Voldemort had left in boxes. The moderates wanted nothing more than to ingratiate themselves with my wealth and power, and the Light of course saw me as Merlin's heir, let alone merely being Dumbledore's, and would let me lead them anywhere. So as far as Wizengamot politics went, I owned that shit.

I never became Minister of Magic. Dumbledore had been on to something when he'd passed on that and simply went for becoming the wise hero-sage who advised Ministers. So before I was thirty I was ensconced as the new DADA Professor at Hogwarts (no Tom, no curse), and would be in Dumbledore's chair as soon as McGonagall eventually retired.

Simple use of basic conspiratorial tradecraft and cell structure kept me entirely isolated from whatever less-than-legal activities I felt necessary to pursue, which wasn't really that many because I had as much wealth, power, and harem funtimes via perfectly legal means as any man could enjoy, and sufficient planning and manipulation perks that I could deal with almost any political opposition with only occasionally having to arrange for the odd murder, blackmailing, or kidnapping.

Plus, I did have to tie off that loose end with Snape. Ah well, when he turned up dead in the house he'd been living in quiet obscurity in a year or so after the war was over, clearly it was the work of vengeful relatives of some of the people he'd cursed to death to maintain his cover as spy. I certainly had absolutely nothing to do with it. Ahem.

I did also want immortality on top of everything I had, mind, but even having failed to extort useful information in that regard from Voldemort's horcruxes before I destroyed them I entirely had options. I knew more about how to subvert the protections on the Department of Mysteries than the DoM ever dreamed I knew, having been able to discreetly brain-drain Augustus Rookwood, Death Eater and renegade Unspeakable, between his capture after the defeat of Voldemort and his date with the dementors. Plus, of course, I was the greatest magical innovator in the world, and looked forward to becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts soon and having access to all that sequestered knowledge. There were things even the Restricted Section wasn't allowed to have, things for the Headmaster's private collection alone. Plus whatever treasures of Slytherin could eventually be found and uncovered from the Chamber of Secrets, even if I had to invent a way of seeing around Fidelius Charms. (I just knew there had to be something down there besides a basilisk and a lot of wet rocks, after all.)

In addition, it would be interesting to see what benefits being the Master of Death gave me. After all, while Tom had become the master of the Elder Wand by killing Dumbledore, I'd then immediately killed Tom. And I already had the Cloak and the Resurrection Stone.

My past as a powerless loser and whipping boy in the "real" world was irrelevant, my present was awesome, and my future was golden. I had everything a man could want and would have as much time as I wanted to enjoy it in.

I'd won. Purely and simply, I'd won. And I'd go on winning forever.

Jump-Chan snorted and closed the file on her latest self-insert, then smirked as she happily danced over to a filing cabinet in her office and put it away.

"Loser!" she irrepressibly burst out as the drawer slammed closed, doing the full Ace Ventura. "LOO-HOO-SER-HER! AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA! WHAT A YUTZ!" she finished on her best Slappy Squirrel impression.

That had been a close one. The person that the system had picked for her next jumper would have been worse even than the infamous Devon Stone, if he'd ever been allowed loose on the Omniverse. But while the rules she'd agreed to abide by required her to give him a chance, precedents such as Without Why from the Universal Drawback Supplement and other things allowed her to wait until after a first jump to actually explain the Jumpchain to her jumper.

She smirked and popped up a holo-display of the moment at which the Nameless Self-Insert, as she would forevermore refer to him as, signed away his chance at powergaming the entire Omniverse until it cried for mercy without ever knowing that he had. Hell, she was going to put the animated gif of this on a loop and make it her desktop background.

"What I meant was, confirm build sheet, yes/no? Are you satisfied with these choices?"

"Yes, I am satisfied with these choices."

Sure, it was more than a bit of fae-style rules-lawyering, but the fact remained that Nameless had said that he was entirely satisfied with what he'd gotten from the first jump-document alone and didn't want anything more. And the self-congratulatory rant he'd done to himself at the end of his adventure there was all about how much he was content with his current position, and couldn't imagine going on to anything more or better.

Which ticked the 'Stay Here' box right off the end of the sheet and meant she could officially close his chain and marked him chain-failed.

Jump-Chan did mourn a bit at the fact that she'd empowered an asshole and turned him loose on an innocent world, but the instant he was marked down as a Jumper opportunity that was inevitable. Even if she'd entirely cheated and dropped him into a situation where he only lived two seconds before dying, that would simply have sent him back to his own world with 1000cp + Drawbacks worth of whatever powers or bennies he could have eked out from his first jump. This way, he was at least in a world surrounded by people of similar powers, where simple pragmatism alone would prompt that high-functioning sociopath to at least pretend to be adequately good most of the time instead of cut loose like the only superpowered godling in a world of ants.

Plus, nothing he did to gain eternal life would work. "Eternal life is impossible for magic" is a fanfic trope as well, if a rare one, and Jump-Chan had carefully locked it in when she'd picked what timeline to drop him into. The only thing that would have worked for him there was the Philosopher's Stone, which the Harry Potter canon allowed in under the grandfather clause, and true to form ol' Nameless had passed it up because he made the assumption that what he wanted to believe about the universe would always come true, specifically, that he'd have another chance later. Furthermore, being the Master of Death only made you immortal in some Harry Potter timelines, and without the guarantee of the relevant scenario it was up to Jump-Chan whether he was in one of those timelines or not. (Not!)

Well, he could hide forever under his Invisibility Cloak, the anti-aging properties of that were backed by Jump-Fiat in the jump-document and Jump-Chan was against arbitrarily rewriting such content, but that would just be a form of Ironic Hell and so even better than letting him die of old age if he went that route.

Yes, despite the various tacky aspects inevitably forced upon the whole experience by the sheer awfulness of the Jumper-candidate involved, Jump-Chan was still going to award herself a plate of freshly-baked 'Who's Awesome? You! You're Awesome!' cookies for this one. Because simply by allowing him to indulge his own character flaws and warped visions, she'd convinced a potential omniversal blight-in-waiting to instead tie a rope of gold around his neck, fasten it to an anchor of privilege and comfort, and then drown himself with a long walk off a short multiverse.

It was even a fair test! If he'd chosen the Light perk line, he could have potentially used Great Redeemer on himself. Even if he hadn't, if he'd simply not chosen to take the quick and easy path to power, if he'd even just have been able to find and stick to a code like Dexter, she could have come to him at Jump-End and explained things to him. As is, when given a free hand to indulge himself and no fear of punishment he'd chosen to let the monster within him dictate his actions. Despite his mental derangement he still knew that his actions were considered 'wrong' by other people, that's why he took such care to conceal them. He simply didn't care that they were wrong.

And so when he proved to be just as bad as Jump-Chan had feared he could be, she ended the decade by slamming the trap door shut right on his fingers.

Welp, job done. Time to settle down with a good book and wait for the next client. Jump-Chan opened up a dimensional inventory, reached in, and hauled out one of her favorite sci-fi novels for its umpteenth re-read.

The Infinite Cage, by Keith Laumer.

Finite Incantatem.


	6. wormpricepower1

Jul 24, 2019

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#1

Novice 1.1

January 1st, 2011. Brockton Bay.

It was a chilly morning, and a young man groaned slightly as he began to stir, finding himself laying on a pile of crushed cardboard boxes. His head ached as he sat up, and trying to get up on his feet he found himself forced to grab onto the nearby wall to prevent himself from falling over. His head throbbed, and it felt like someone was twisting a shard of ice inside his skull, a sense of revulsion running through his very being. He drew a few deep breaths while steadying himself, hoping for the nausea to pass.

His eyes had been pinched shut while the wave of nausea had run through him, but as he opened them again he took another look at his surroundings, and found himself inhaling the smell of the piss-soaked alley in all its disgusting glory. His vision was clear, a lot clearer than it had been in years. His pockets empty, as he found while patting himself down. He was dressed in black jeans, a dark green t-shirt without any symbols on it, and a black coat that seemed fine other than a few pieces of dirt he brushed away briefly. No wallet. No phone. No keys. The situation wasn't looking too good.

His name was Thomas Wolf, and he was a man who had been in his late twenties last night. At that time, his body looked more like he was in his early twenties, a small change but noticeable. His black hair was short, his green eyes no longer blurring anything further off without his glasses, and his nose seeming more sensitive to the smells than it had been earlier. Whatever had taken place, it seemed it had not been without its benefits. The fact his pat down had also noted the start of a beer belly he had been putting on was gone, replaced by a firm flat stomach. Not really muscular, but in better shape than office work had left him in the past few years.

'Where the hell am I, and how did I get here?'

He wondered about what had happened to place him in this unfamiliar setting, but grimaced as trying to think about last night brought back the feeling of that ice shard twisted in his head. It was enough to make him shiver, and abandon that thought for now. Taking a few breaths he focused on the part of memories from earlier that did not seem to be obscured in a way that actually caused him pain.

Tom had been looking forward to having a weekend to himself, the long project behind him, he had intended to enjoy his Friday evening at home relaxing, open a can of beer and check the forums again. Lastly, he had taken a look at the fan stories about Worm, and had run into a series of images listing the options available, for better or worse. Trying to think past that gave a familiar bit of warning chill, making him drop the thought. It did answer a few questions however.

He had been working on an idea on Worm CYOA, and then found himself in an alleyway in a rundown city with targeted amnesia. He was having hard time coming up with what CYOA in particular he had used, and what his choices had been. He was still aware of Worm being a dystopian setting and about the story itself, though more memories dealt with fan made works than the original canon story to his annoyance. Lastly, this whole thing seemed far too real to be a dream, and yet he was not panicking. That in itself was concerning, though it was secondary to the realization he was in Worm, a setting which held world-ending horrors, city-destroying monsters, and criminal gangs with empowered enforcerers of their own, not to even begin with the frightening madmen out there like Jack Slash and the rest of the Slaughterhouse Nine, or Nilbog and his domain at Ellisburg.

Walking out of the alley, he noticed a nearby wall had graffiti on it proclaiming the glory of Empire Eighty-Eight. He had anticipated it by now, but the confirmation to his fears still left him feeling somewhat numb for a few seconds. A loud sigh escaped his mouth, before he hugged himself, patting his arms. 'Damn it is chilly, I thought the story began in April? Shouldn't it be warmer already? Or wait, am I here before the story starts?'

The thought of trying to save Taylor from the horror of the locker occurred to him, but was immediately followed by the grim reminder that without Taylor this world would be doomed. At least unless his arrival already butterflied some things out of place. If it had, then he would be damning an innocent girl to a living hell by inaction.

He grimaced and rubbed his forehead. For all he knew, he could already be too late. It might be chilly, but that did not mean he had arrived before the locker incident took place. He'd have to check the date somewhere. He was not quite sure what he would do about the whole thing just yet, but he had not expected to actually end up in a fictional world, or more likely just another branch of altered paths originating from that particular fictional world. He really should have paid a bit more attention to the multiverse theory when he had ran into it.

'Still, the main thing about this setting is supposed to be the powers. Do I have any powers of my own or no? I'd be disappointed if a little physical fix-up and mental countermeasures against panicking were all there was.' Thomas let out a short sigh again, while walking down the street, looking around for a business that was already open. Unfortunately it seemed to be early enough that most places were still shut.

High above in the sky, floating near the clouds, Simurgh was moving along over the ocean her direction and velocity unchanged for a while now. On the surface she seemed peaceful and serene, undeserving of her reputation as a monster. It was earned however, as she had caused great but terrible things in her time. She saw what was and what would be, and plot accordingly, yet her previous plans had recently discovered a new set of variables. While it would take her some time to untangle them and read the changes they might bring, her general impression about what was coming caused something that would have terrified people if they were observing her closely enough to see her usually unchanging expression. For at that particular moment, Simurgh was smiling. It was not a pleasant smile. It was smug, amused, and foreboding.

Before the next satellite scan from one of the remaining high-orbit satellites used to track her progress her face had returned to her resting expression. Inside, she was running through possible scenarios in her mind, while working to untangle the mess of newly opened possibilities, to survey the options those would provide, the roadblocks to overcome, the possibilities for intervention, one way or another, to set up for the sake of the future.

Inside a dimly lit throne room a robed figure rested back in his seat and smirked behind the mask he wore, gazing down at the three people before him, his eyes shifting from one to another quietly considering the odds. He had no intention to interfere once everything was in place, but in the meanwhile he was free to amuse himself with the possibilities ahead. He had to limit his own perception to keep things interesting, which meant imposing certain limits within the targeted dimension, but it would be worth it. The little power spent to make this possible was a mere drop in the ocean compared to the winnings he might get if he managed to set everything up right. Beings like him were prone to boredom after all, and had little interest in a game that was rigged from the start, but one that was determined by lesser beings that had been empowered and then set loose could prove more amusing, given the right preparations.

"Each of you are guilty of a number of sins against your fellow beings. Each of you is capable of taking a life if you deem it necessary. Each of you has a craving for power. What I am offering to you is a taste of that power, and an opportunity to seize a fair deal more, should you manage to accomplish the task I have set for you. I have already sent one ahead of time into a city which they are forbidden to leave for more than a day at a time, a binding that is in place for the duration of the next ten years. You will be given that period of ten years to hunt down, and exterminate the first one, and should you accomplish this you will be rewarded by additional power. You can work together and split the rewards, or you can work alone and keep it for yourself. Regardless, if you fail to kill the first one within the ten year period, you will be returned to your own world without the powers you gained from the deal, and no memories of the time you spent in another world hunting. Time will stand still until your return, either way. If you die, you will spend the remaining time of the decade in a jail cell, and will then be sent back good as new. If you succeed, you can either keep your newly gained power and stay, or keep them and return to your home world, or if you are feeling like taking a further gamble, I may even offer you a chance to double your already gained power in exchange for playing another round, and this time starting as the first one."

He watched as the three looked at one another and thought about it, before gesturing at the three. "Make your choices. You have a few free picks, and can take more by permitting me to meddle and cause you misery. You choose what you are willing to endure, but the rewards are certainly worth it. So, my hunters, it is time for you to make your choices."

Author's Note: This story is based on the Revised 3rd Edition of the Worm CYOA, but parts of it are played out differently, as should already be visible. 3 enemies, each providing 2 points in drawbacks, for a total of 6 points in drawbacks from them alone, but giving each of them 4 free points and potentially 5 more from their own drawbacks. As for the rest, the character has full set of 10 points of drawbacks, and no points left unspent. Though I will state this story was started on the Standard Difficulty rather than God Mode or Skitter Mode. Meaning the same restriction applies to the enemies as well. The main character is an OC rather than SI.

Additionally, I originally thought it might be interesting to leave the 3 enemies up to any readers to design, though I did consider simply filling them in myself. I merely found myself curious since the CYOA did suggest leaving it 'up to the ROB'. Though I do admit the idea of leaving them up to the readers might cause a bit of conflict and seem too quest-like, even if I considered that idea from the angle of just using the build and writing the characters out based on what was put into the builds themselves.

Lastly, I'll consider adding in an Informational section later if it becomes necessary.[/hr][/hr][/hr]

Last edited: Jul 24, 2019

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FrozenTome

Jul 25, 2019

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#5

Novice 1.2

The fact that it was the new years day meant that most of the stores were closed, and would stay closed for the rest of the day, but fortunately it also left a number of clues around as well. Thomas' walk had eventually brought him before a newsstand, with the old papers on it proclaiming the new year's celebration for the arrival of the year 2011 were expected to be glorious, with a mention of tinker-made fireworks show being planned over Brockton Bay as well.

That, along with a quick question to a few of the local bums and junkies in the alleyway nearby had given him the date. It was the January 1st. Saturday. That meant he still had time to interfere, if he decided to do so. Of course, even if he somehow prevented the locker incident, that did not mean the terrible trio didn't try something even worse later on.

Besides, he had a few other concerns on his mind as well at that time. He had been dropped into an unfamiliar city with no money and no shelter available to him. Worst come to be, he might seek shelter in one of the abandoned buildings for a while, but it was chilly enough in the morning in his current attire so he wasn't keen on finding out just how could he would feel if he had to spend the night outside as well.

Getting his hands on some resources, and preferably legally, was still a step he needed to figure out. Attacking gang members and rolling them for cash was likely to make him some dangerous enemies for a pitiful short-term gain. Trying to find and attack any of their safe houses for a larger amount of cash would only piss off a gang worse, and possibly draw parahuman attention upon him sooner rather than later.

He had not made any headway on figuring out what powers if any he should now possess either. He had thought it would be intuitive, but so far there were only the small changes in his body and mind that he had noted. He had lost weight and his sight and other senses had improved, and he was resistant to panicking or going into denial over his situation, but he doubted he would even rate Brute 1 or Thinker 1 with those little changes.

There was something that he was missing, and he had to figure it out. There was also a sense of urgency, though the details seemed to be falling under the same nausea-inducing mental block as the exact details of what had taken place prior to his arrival. Thomas could only hope that eventually that block would break and provide him with some answers.

On the positive side of things, at least he was no longer suffering from the initial nausea, and he wasn't feeling particularly hungry or thirsty either. A little chill lingered, but it was quite easy to ignore.

After having walked around for a while and not finding any places open, he took a seat on a bus stop and leaned back into the seat wearily. The graffiti covered the walls marking this as E88 territory. He didn't see any of them walking around right now, but it was still somewhat early, and given it was new year's day, they might just be sleeping off a hangover from partying last night.

Leaning back and thinking about his situation, he quietly wondered about whether or not he did have some powers at his disposal, and if he did, what would he have to do in order to unlock them or learn about them. It was a tad frustrating being left out of the loop, and the partial amnesia seemed like a likely candidate for the reason he was having to deal with just a frustrating start.

Truthfully, Tom was well aware that his start was a lot better than some people had received. He remembered reading a story about someone who had chosen to begin their tale in Ellisburg, and grimaced at the thought of that. He could have ended up in Cauldron's base just as easily, and that would not have gone over too well, that much he was certain about. Having a bit of hard time to get started and unlock his powers was a small price to pay in comparison, but it was still irritating.

Sighing out loudly and rubbing his forehead he closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. His senses were a bit sharper, not superhumanly so but better than they had been. His physical health had improved, but unlikely to reach the level of a brute. His mind was clear, at least for the most part, and he could not descend into panic, denial, madness of that sort, but it did not render him an unfeeling inhumane being. He could get angry, frustrated, and yet still remain somewhat optimistic about his situation.

If nothing else worked, he could try and approach PRT and explain about having somehow ended up in the city with some of his memories missing, nothing to identify himself with, and sufficient physical changes he felt he would prefer to get tested to confirm nothing was wrong, and if that happened to also include testing for powers, he'd take it.

It was not his first choice, or his preferred option for that matter, but it was a backup plan at least.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of squealing tires in the distance, making him open his eyes and look around. At the distance he could see what may have once been a normal van, but now seemed like something ripped right out of a Mad Max film series. Metal plates welded onto the sides, spikes running high and low, gun ports in the sides, and a sharpened cow catcher in the front of the vehicle hanging low over the road. He could hear gunshots in the air and saw the vehicle fast approaching, getting up on his feet intending to move a bit off.

Before he had a chance there was a new series of shots and he felt like someone had stabbed him in the side and his shoulder, a sudden spike of pain accompanied by a swift numbness over the affected area as he staggered against the side of the bus stop, letting out a cough seeing blood against the wall, tasting it in his mouth.

The car passed, but he slumped down on his knees while grimacing. He was not in pain, and the numbness was fading a little as well, but damn if it hadn't hurt when it happened. Trying to stay up and conscious, he saw a second car following the first, with a large angry man on the front seat holding a god damned assault rifle and firing after the first car speeding away, the shaved heads and shared white guy looks lending credence to his assumption this was some fight between Merchants and the Empire Eighty-Eight.

And he had just managed to get shot by being too close by mistake. Grimacing as he tried to rise up he silently cursed his luck, spitting out the blood in his mouth and a little relieved to find no more of it rising to his throat. His side and shoulder still felt numb, but it was far lesser sensation than it had been originally, and while everything seemed a little hazy to his senses it certainly beat laying on the ground screaming in horrible agony. Even if it was concerning that pain had been replaced by numbness that quickly.

With a final shudder running through him he lost the battle against falling unconscious, collapsing there on the street. He could hear the sirens in the distance, surprised at the rapid response, before realizing it sounded like the police rather than the ambulance. He guessed that was it then. All because of one damn drive-by and not knowing what his powers were or how to put them to good use. Just damn it all to hell, he thought before passing out.

Amy Dallon was tired. She had been at the hospital since early morning, and had treated several dozen morons who had managed to injure themselves by playing with fireworks, or otherwise getting hurt drinking and partying last night. She had wanted to enjoy it with Vicky, only to find that Carol insisted on making it a family evening, and Vicky had complained that she had a date with her boyfriend.

So it was understandable that she was not in the greatest mood when she entered the room with her next patient. A man in his early to mid-twenties, Caucasian, several gunshot wounds from a drive-by by the Merchants and Empire Eighty Eight members earlier that day. The chart she had noted that this particular patient had been found already stabilized, but nobody nearby who could have been suspected of providing first aid. It raised a flag that the patient was potentially a cape.

Reaching out to touch the unconscious man's chest as he wasn't awake to give his permission nor have any contact information on his person to allow them to reach another person who could have given it on his behalf, she engaged in a simple scan and was prepared to start doing minor repairs when what she was receiving from her power caught her off guard.

His body was definitely altered. His body was tougher and stronger than it looked, and the shot in the shoulder was little more than a bruise in terms of what limitations it would cause to the arm's mobility. The hits in the side still had the bullets inside, but they were seemingly coated in a shell of hardened tissue isolating them from the body, slowly being pushed out. There was evidence of organ damage, a punctured lung and a hit in the stomach, but they were recovering on their own, albeit a touch slowly, yet she saw no evidence of permanent harm.

He wasn't bullet proof by any means, hardly even bullet resistant, but the man did appear to have a regenerative healing factor of some sort. A scan of his head revealed a corona pollentia and gemma as she had expected, though they appeared a little weird to her. Like they were just there for show, as she could not detect any sort of activity from them despite the ongoing repair work his body was already undergoing.

Truthfully she might have left him as he was and he should have been fine in a day or two, but seeing as she was already there she decided to use her powers to accelerate the healing process. Expelling the bullets, she encouraged his body to hasten its own healing process, having it redirect remain fat reserves to creating healthy tissue in place of the damaged ones. Fixing up the organ damage took less effort than it usually did, and she felt like the man's body was actually providing her with immediate feedback and insights to its health while she was caring for it.

She was soon done, the body well on its way to recovery. The mystery man had been recovering and would have been fine in a couple of days time, but with her aid he should be up in a couple of hours. However, seeing as he had been hurt in public and his possible triggering at the scene had already drawn some interest she expected for PRT to send someone over soon to have a word with the man.

Part of her wanted to stay and examine his physique a little longer, but another, more insistent part was insisting that she had more patients waiting for her help, and had no time for simple curiosity. She had no interest in the man beyond his power, but she certainly wanted to try and figure it out. Aegis' physiology was interesting as well, but while it was adaptive it was not nearly as responsive to her touch. It listened and obeyed, but this man was the first one who's body actually began to offer feedback like it had.

Heading back out, she saw the officer outside of the room look at her curiously as she stepped out, joined by a nurse who he had apparently been talking with while she was in the room.

"He should wake up in an hour or two."

Turning around to continue her work, she headed down the hallway for her next patient on the list, a terminal cancer patient who had spent a large amount of money to be moved at the top of the admittance list at the hospital she was known to frequent. She felt some reluctance given the file noted this patient was one who had already undergone several cosmetic surgeries to enhance their looks, a vain man who would undoubtedly try and inquire if she could possibly use her powers to enhance his looks further, or remove evidence of prior work done to his nose or cheekbones.

A/N: Second short piece, I do have some plans to write longer pieces as well eventually, but at the start I have a few more short pieces in mind before I consider expanding on them.

I'll see if I can have the next chapter up later today or if it happens tomorrow, either way I do plan to continue having these shorter bits out a little faster.[/hr][/hr]

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#10

Novice 1.3

Thomas let out a small groan as he began to stir. He was laying on a soft bed, and for a moment he thought that the whole thing he had experienced had been a dream. That illusion was quickly shattered however as he smelt the chemicals used to clean the place, as well as feeling the unfamiliar bed beneath him. His eyes opened, and took in his surroundings, before he let out a sigh and rested his head back on the pillow.

He was in a hospital room, shirtless, and with a heart monitor attached and beeping nearby. He had been shot on the street by a bunch of rowdy gangbangers, and dropped from that. It was one of the least impressive ways to get started in Worm in his opinion, though he reserved the right to bitch that it had happened when his access to his power was playing hide and seek with him.

The short nap had provided some answers thankfully. His memories about the events had not cleared up entirely, but some segments had become available, and on top of that he now had at least a few answers.

His primary choice had been to take up the power of a Gamer. He was not popping up floating screens in the air all around him with notifications, but it did make his body tougher and easier to improve, it lent itself to protecting his mind, and it gave a general boost to his learning capabilities. He could go on without real need to sleep, eat, or drink for that matter, simplifying things a fair bit.

That didn't mean he should abandon them entirely. Eating or drinking could still assist him, in particular when he needed to heal, and he was still able to rest, it was simply no longer a necessity for him. Though he was now aware that a short rest would help him replenish in another manner.

There was a power within him that took advantage of the quick learning abilities of being a gamer. Two faces of the same power really. Magic of both arcane and divine nature. Even though he was just a novice right now, in time those might develop into some rather powerful and versatile abilities. If he stayed alive long enough to see that happen at least.

He had received fair bit of damage from the attack earlier, and while he was recovering, he was keenly aware of the fact that he had been just a target of opportunity for some drug-addled psychopath riding in that merchant car earlier, and that had been enough to send him on the ground and into a hospital. He'd need to learn, and fast, if he wanted to stay alive in this city.

It didn't really help his situation much that most of the rest was still lost to him. He knew that a third of his power had come without real strings attached, but another two thirds had been acquired by taking additional trouble to deal with in the form. Trying to think about that produced only a blur in his mind however, and a warning hint of chill, a reminder of the ice spike of pain he had felt before when he first tried to wrench some answers free.

Thomas heard a knock on the door nearby, and frowned. "Yes?"

"There's someone from PRT here who would wish to talk with you. A mask was delivered on the side table besides your bed earlier, so please put it on for the duration of the meeting regardless of whether or not you are a cape. Please call out when you are ready."

Tom let out a weary sigh. The fact he had woken up without a mask in the first place and now received instructions like this meant they had already seen his face, but it could be that only the hospital staff was aware, and respected their non disclosure agreements.

He could almost believe it, if not for the fact some information tended to leak to people like Coil or the gang bosses all too easily. Someone would figure the information was valuable, and make money off of it.

He reached over to a nearby plain white mask, with cuts for eyes and lips on it. He put it in place along with the straps to secure it behind his head, before rising up on his feet. He was a bit unsteady on his feet still, standing there in the hospital gown. Looking around he found his pants and shoes on a nearby chair, his shirt and coat missing. Given that he had been shot in the upper body he figured they had been removed from his person, possibly by cutting, and even if not they might have been ruined by blood.

He grumbled to himself before letting his pants rest there and moving back to sit on the bed, clearing his throat and then raising his voice. "Ready."

The door opened, and he found himself facing a man dressed in a costume that reminded him of lions and gladiators, with a helmet resembling a lion with its open jaw pressing down on the man's forehead, a visor beneath obscuring the man's eyes from him but undoubtedly giving him a clear view of Thomas in turn.

"Good afternoon, I am Triumph, and I am here on behalf of both PRT and Protectorate." The man spoke with a clear, confident voice while offering a polite smile. Despite the mask covering the upper half of his face, the man came off as quite impressive, even if he remembered little about him in the stories.

"Nice to meet you. Since I was provided with a mask I assume you would prefer I gave a cape name of some sort in turn. I am afraid to say I do not possess one, though for the sake of this conversation I think 'Scholar' might work." He shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I would like to ask you a few questions if I may?" Triumph started, and waited for him to nod his agreement before continuing. "You were brought into a hospital for treatment after receiving several gunshot wounds during a vehicular gunfight, as a bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Yes, I remember that. I heard noise and got up on my feet. I don't know if the junkies in the first car thought I was another ganger stepping up to try and stop them or what, but the next thing I knew I was being shot at."

"Were you alone at the bus stop?" Triumph asked seriously while Thomas blinked. He did see the sense in that though, if his healing was due to someone else using powers on him rather than his own power they would want to know as quickly as possible.

"Yes, I was alone there, just thinking at the moment before I was interrupted."

"By the time the police arrived where you had been shot, having been in pursuit of the fleeing gangers, they found you in a relatively stable state despite having been hit by six separate bullets, three of which were deemed to be dangerous hits. Each of those wounds had clotted over, and you were not showing signs of internal bleeding despite the wounds you had received. You were still loaded up to an ambulance and brought in. The hospital confirmed that your vitals were stable, though you were injured. Since the wound were behaving strangely they decided to call in panacea. Do you have anything to add at this point?" Triumph spoke in a curious, friendly tone towards the end, not sounding like an official conducting an interrogation but a sympathetic ear willing to listen.

"I have noticed some changes in my body recently. My body is healthier than it used to be, and while getting shot hurt, it was surprisingly brief before the pain numbed. I was aware I had been hit but it was simple information rather than waves of pain running through my skull that I expected." He rolled his eyes behind the mask. "Though my impressions are more from books and stories than real experience I'll admit."

Triumph smiled in apparent amusement at his answer before speaking more seriously. "Are you a parahuman ?"

"I suspected I might be, based on the improvements I had experienced, but I was not certain. The changes so far were relatively minor, small weight loss combined with no longer needing to wear glasses. I thought it was possible I had some very minor power that was not worth real notice, at least before this. Even that was a recent development, so recent that I had not even given real thought of having said abilities tested."

Triumph did not say anything, nor did his expression change, but he nodded slightly afterwards. "Would you be interested in having such testing done now in the aftermath of this event?"

"I imagine I should, though I still think I am, at most, a very minor brute with most of it invested in a healing package, albeit a rather slow acting one." It was a partial truth too. Those abilities might grow over time, but for the present moment his abilities as a gamer would seem relatively low and unremarkable.

"It was reported that when you were brought in there were no identification papers on your person, nor a phone or any other such personal objects either. Could you explain the reason for this?" Triumph continued on in the same sympathetic tone of voice.

"The short answer is that I lost said possessions prior to acquiring the power I now possess. I would prefer to not say more on that matter for now. I do wonder just how I am going to cover the hospital bill from this mess however." The fact he had been brought to a hospital even without papers had actually surprised him, but he figured the PRT and possibly Protectorate interest might be behind that.

"If you are willing to take the power testing and give us a brief explanation of the events that took place, the PRT ENE shall pick up the costs in this case. Given that Panacea volunteers at this hospital and this was considered Parahuman crime, due to Hookwolf being involved in the chase as well as one of Squealer's vehicles, the price for your recovery is not going to land on your shoulders."

Triumph's answer did offer a bit of comfort at least. He admitted he appreciated the hospital care he had received, but appearing without money in his possession and having a bill to pay might get complicated very quickly. In a way he was almost glad that they had figured out he had powers and could charge this whole mess on someone else. Then again on the other hand this meant the PRT and Protectorate could push for him to enter the Protectorate's service since he 'owed them one'.

"I didn't exactly pack spare clothes with me, and I doubt my old clothes survived the experience. Any chance you could get me at least a basic tee shirt and some coat to go along with it for the time being?" He looked at Triumph wondering how the man would react to that bit of information.

"That shouldn't be too difficult to arrange." Triumph nod slightly before looking back at the door. "I should head out and contact my superiors for now however, I'll have a change of clothes sent for you shortly. Please dress up and I'll arrange a ride for us."

"Alright, just remember I'm only agreeing to a power testing and a debriefing, and I'm a civilian so I hope your superiors excuse me if I am not able to answer all of their questions in a satisfactory manner."

"The worst they can do is to repeat their question in a different form." Triumph seemed to smirk slightly before heading on out of the of the room, leaving Thomas to momentarily lean back and cover his face with his hands as he groaned. Cover his mask actually, but the intent was the same. He had hoped to remain independent for a fair while longer, but if information about him was already getting out then it was likely that he would have to make a decision soon.

Joining the Protectorate didn't really appeal to him that much, but at least he was old enough to not have to worry about being pushed into the Wards. He would just have to bear with it, and see how the whole situation would play out.

He would need time and some privacy to begin working with his newly acquired information on the arcane and divine magic, he could understand the basics of what his power supplied him, but it seemed apparent he would need to take a bit of time to focus, prepare, and then experiment with that power. It was not a simple as just pointing a finger at something and blasting it, he could tell it would take some effort to get it ready, but at the same time, his powers would be the sort that would grow over time and practice would only serve to further accelerate the process.

Unfortunately the fact remained that Scion was still out there, Endbringers were crushing cities every few months, and the murder hoboes of Slaughterhouse 9 were travelling the land putting innocent and not so innocent people alike through horrors that even fans of slasher films would consider excessive and needlessly cruel.

He almost missed the sound of the nurse knocking, and then entering the room carrying a change of clothes in her arms, moving to set it down nearby before turning and leaving the room.

As much as he wanted to just take off and leave, he had decided to co-operate, for now. Escaping after the recent incident would only make them more curious to go after him, appearing in their care and displaying abilities that they would consider too low tier to be of a serious threat in the city would likely end up better. Even if they for whatever reason attempted to recruit him there should be a chance to just walk away, even if he had to appeal to some distasteful options such as feigning excessive cowardliness.

He had a feeling Director Piggot wouldn't really put in too much effort for a cape she'd likely consider too weak and ill suited for the job anyway. Or maybe she would out of sheer annoyance at seeing someone that reminded her of the capes that ran away back at Ellisburg. He really wished he knew her personality better, the fan works he'd read in the past painted her in a somewhat intimidating manner however, but in the canon she had still managed to keep the powder keg that was Brockton Bay from erupting in more violence than it had prior to a certain bomb-tinker's decision to turn the city into a warzone.

Author's Note: Posted a little earlier than I expected, I had intent on trying to rewrite certain sections of the above talk, but ended up deciding to post this in its current form instead.[/hr]

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Threadmarks Novice 1.4

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FrozenTome

Jul 29, 2019

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#21

Novice 1.4

The trip to the PRT was a somewhat awkward one. Thomas wore the plain white mask he had been given, relaxing back in his seat, but unable to really relax with the trio of PRT troopers and Triumph watching him. They might not have been obvious about it, but he could tell they were keeping an eye on him. Then again, he was an unknown figure, and one that was waiting just confirmation of being a cape. He couldn't really fault them for having a little caution about the matter.

They had sat quietly for the time it took to get from the hospital to the PRT HQ. Stepping out, he followed Triumph inside the building while the troopers moved to park the car. He briefly wondered whether or not the PRT vans had an underground parking space nearby as he saw no open space around the actual HQ, but chose not to worry too much over that for now.

Still, thinking it over he was pretty sure the holding cells were supposed to be underground, as were the Wards, though those were likely to be buried deeper down, more like a bunker in case the PRT was attacked, a well protected space to protect the Wards in case of a direct attack against the PRT itself.

"Right this way," Triumph said leading him onwards till the two of them arrived to a laboratory space with a number of measuring devices around. He noted an older man in a white labcoat and fiddling with a touchpad computer nearby looking up at the two of them and then swiftly heading over towards them.

"This is our next client huh? I'm Doctor Namara, and I'll be taking care of the sensors and the readings. I understood that you may have a low level brute rating? We have a few things I would like to test then, for strength, agility, speed and endurance." He smiled amused at the two of them.

"Doctor Namara is a new addition to our staff, but rather good at his job. Though don't let him take a blood sample without insisting on a smaller needle," Triumph remarked in a joking manner.

"Bah! Big men scared of a needle, a little bigger needle gets things done so much faster. Optional, of course." The man in the labcoat tried to smile to Thomas reassuringly.

"Right. Well, let's get this started, and I'm not a big fan of needles but I'll consider it." He refused to give a consent for a blood test right away, but he did consider it an option if that was what it would take to make the authorities relax.

What followed was a rather ordinary seeming workout with weights at first, followed by a machine press that was restricted so that it could only move a little way back and forth vertically. Moving beneath the machine, he pushed the press up to the highest setting, before settling in place to hold it up.

The pressure began to build in a slow fashion, and the scientist watching him seemed to be observing him quietly. Making some notes on the tablet computer while sitting beside a terminal controlling the press, he watched quietly while Triumph had left sometime earlier.

He found himself tiring after a short while, the pressure getting a touch more difficult to handle. His hands were pushing against the metal as long as he could hold it, but eventually he found himself unable to hold the press up, the machine giving a loud click as it settled down.

"Splendid, take a couple of minutes, there's soda in the drinks machine if you need refreshments." The doctor was looking over the results while Thomas rubbed his wrists, finding his arms already recovering, the exertion not seeming to leave his muscles really sore but appearances ought to be maintained he thought to himself.

"That would be great if I had any change on my person." His comment earned a confused glance from the doctor who shrugged and dug in his pocket pulling out what seemed like a fist-sized little coin sorter of some sort, pulling off a few coins.

"Here you go, I prefer you to not be dehydrated when we continue." The man smiled while returning his attention back to the results.

Thomas hummed but took the offered coins, and then keyed in his choice after paying the fee for the soda bottle. Soon enough the machine let out a short whir and he could hear the sound of the plastic bottle dropping down. At least the device worked rather than acting like a bad cliche and refusing to release a bottle as it was intended to. He moved his mask up slightly, still covering his face but allowing him to drink.

Uncorking the bottle he took a short sip before lowering his mask in place again, and glancing at the man nearby. He took a better look around after seeing the man was entirely focused on his results, noticing a couple of discrete cameras present in the ceiling, looking more like smoke detectors or something similar but just glancing up at them he could tell they were more than that. Then again it wasn't a place requiring more discrete observation anyway.

"Right! The results are within human limits, but pretty much at the top of that range. Given you don't exactly look like a bundle of muscles I imagine we can confirm parahuman power at work here. Brute 1 or 2, but we got the other parts to check."

What followed was a run on a treadmill to start with, though that proved enough. He could run like an Olympian athlete if he worked up to it, but it took a bit to reach that speed, and it was still within human limits. Still, given his physical appearance it seemed to be another check on the brute list.

"No obvious signs of fatigue, maintaining the top speed for a fair length. I think it might get you a Mover rating under the Brute rating, but it would likely be just as low. Not bad overall, but I admit I was hoping to see more." The doctor didn't even try and soften the blow of his comment. Thomas was just grateful they were unaware of his actual abilities though, figuring these were perhaps tied to being a gamer, though he had expected to start from a more normal range and working up from there.

The array of tests he went through included a few other physical tests followed by mental ones, including a few logic puzzles that were timed, and questions about things he didn't know much about. It took some time, but eventually it was over.

"Here you go." He heard a voice nearby and looked up to see a figure in a silver and gunmetal power armor. A figure that was holding out a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

"Thanks, I didn't really sweat out there but I appreciate the drink." Thomas smiled and lifted his mask somewhat to take a sip of the water. He was also thinking back at who this was. He had recognized Triumph because his outfit stood out, but he wasn't so sure about wards. Aegis wore more red outfit, this was not a Clockblocker, too old for Kid Win definitely, and he doubted the guy was Browbeat. Unfortunately he didn't remember the name right away.

"Not sweating even after the tests, I think that would be a handy little trick to have." The young man spoke in a friendly manner, making him feel a bit more relaxed and trusting. The fact he was feeling this way all of a sudden gave him a reminder of who it was who he was forgetting.

"Gallant, right? Nice armor, it looks pretty cool. Mmh, haven't really thought about a proper name to use, figured I'd be going with 'Scholar'. I know it doesn't fit the brute thing, but I preferred reading and learning before, and I doubt I'm going to be getting active in the cape scene anyway."

Gallant appeared a bit amused but shook his head. "Thank you, although I am afraid I have some bad news about that. It seems unlikely the gangs are going to let you just walk around without picking sides, there's only so many parahumans in the city and most of them look towards either eliminating ones not on their side or unfit for their own recruitment, or making an offer that is not easy to decline." Gallant sounded entirely serious and regretful, but Thomas found himself frowning.

As far as trying to convince him to side with the PRT or Protectorate went, that was rather clumsy. He seemed to realize it too, given he seemed to notice he wasn't exactly pleased at the news. That was when he remembered his powers didn't just extend to inflicting emotions on another, but sensing them. Which meant the man was able to read him easily enough and realize he'd been caught pushing an agenda.

"I thank you for your concern, but I am more concerned about the current lack of funds and papers rather than the gangs." Thomas may have agreed to the power testing, but he was hoping to limit his involvement with the PRT and the Protectorate to what was necessary.

"Well I had to at least give you a warning about it. I really hope you don't end up getting in trouble with any of them again, you've already had one dose of bad luck in the city after all." Gallant's remark did serve as a nasty reminder he had been shot earlier. At least he had recovered quickly from that.

"I'll be careful out there. Is that all or was I supposed to sit down for a debriefing of some sort still?" Thomas narrowed his eyes behind the mask while looking at Gallant, a sign that the man did not miss.

"Right, please follow me and we'll take care of that." He smiled while leading Thomas further into the building.

It took a while, and repeating himself several times as well, but eventually Thomas walked out through the front doors of the PRT building. He had seen no signs of Armsmaster or Director Piggot and he didn't really mind. It seemed he wasn't important enough to warrant their attention and that suited him just fine for now at least.

As he walked away he held the mask in place on his face until he had made some distance and stepped over to a nearby alleyway, frowning slightly as he took off his mask. Looking around, he sighed and held the mask quietly in his hand, considering what lay ahead.

Once he could acquire enough power his magic would allow him to disguise himself more effectively, essentially setting up alternate identities if necessary, but that wouldn't change the fact that his civilian identity did not have papers, or any money either.

He might be able to get his hands on some cash if he acted against the gangs or managed to score some bounties, but both of those ideas would put him to a test. He wanted to be better prepared before starting that out, and while he had resisted the gunshots and recovered from them, that didn't change the fact they had hurt and had put him down for a time.

If he tried something risky he might get shot again and then finished as he lay on the ground, and he was pretty sure that his abilities couldn't reverse death. He was seriously doubtful he was lucky enough to have multiple lives despite being a gamer.

Thomas let out a short sigh as he then moved to sit down out of the way, choosing a set of boxes in that particular alleyway. His eyes closing, he focused. Feeling the warmth of the power he had felt once he woke up in the hospital bed, the power he had not had time to prepare earlier.

Holding his eyes shut and breathing slowly, he focused his attention on the powers in question, feeling the calm waters of those pools of power, a strange awareness of possibilities and of restrictions. He would begin with only the lowest level of effects, or spells if he wanted to annoy people like Armsmaster who would find the term ridiculous in the world of capes.

He had a fair sized library of possible powers in both pools, but only so many options could be picked for each day, and once picked, he would be unable to change them until he had a chance to rest and then focus upon them again. It was inconvenient, but the versatility certainly worked in his favor in this case.

Author's Note: The weekend is over, and I didn't really find much time for posting during it. I did state my minimum will be two posts a week, but I prefer to keep the number up higher where possible.

Thomas didn't remember Gallant right away having other things on his mind, but it didn't take that much to jog his memory on that matter.

Next chapter will be up later this week, I intend to post an Interlude as well as a regular chapter.[/hr][/hr]

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Threadmarks Novice 1.A - Interlude (Piggot, Coil)

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Jul 31, 2019

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#23

Novice 1.A Interlude

Director Piggot

It had been a busy day for the PRT and the Protectorate, and the people gathered in the meeting room were all looking forward to going home and relaxing for a while. Even Armsmaster's usually stoic face was showing the fatigue he had been through, as they were starting to near the end of the day's debriefing.

"In the aftermath, the empire drove the merchant thugs out of the area and gave chase to the last car leaving the area. It may have been a mere test if Squealer could produce multiple easier to maintain vehicles for the Merchants, but this show of force was certainly alarming. The fact the merchants were capable of attacking simultaneously at five different locations with cars armed with heavy weapons capable of breaking the empire owned businesses and causing serious damage to the surrounding areas means that they can no longer be taken lightly." Armsmaster finished his report with a grim look on his face.

"I managed to examine one of the wrecks driven off road, after the merchants in question had torn off the gun and made a run for it, but unfortunately they seemed to have it rigged to destroy anything important with the pull of a switch once it was no longer able to run. I pulled out a few pieces to examine later in my laboratory, but I believe most of Squealer's 'improvements' are too heavily blackboxed to be of any real use to us, even after refining the designs."

While Armsmaster might consider examining the parts worth further interest, Director Piggot did not. The vehicles had proven dangerous, but also rather fragile once they were hit with something stronger than handguns and rifles. Rune had wrecked one, Hookwolf had taken down two, and Assault and Battery had managed to actually force one off road for Armsmaster to examine after Squealer's own car pulled off a rather disturbing vanishing trick. She was far more concerned about that particular vehicle rather than the others.

"That thing was heavier than it looked, and the gun mounted on the back was no joke either. I don't think I would want to fight against more than one of those, or one handled by people who aren't heavily self-medicated." Assault just had to throw his own bit in, but it was relatively tame given their serious mood.

"As for the other matter. One of the casualties of the recent attack was a civilian, who either triggered on the scene or had triggered earlier but remained quiet and out of sight until now. They were taken to a hospital, but their body was already recovering when Panacea was brought in to examine the patient just in case." Triumph was restating this, but it did tie in with what remained.

"He was willing to come along to PRT for power testing and a short interview concerning his situation. He was notably reluctant to join Protectorate officially, but did not seem inclined to work for any of the gangs either. I had an emergency call for assistance at that time so I had to leave, but requested Gallant to take over." He paused at this point noticing the director was glaring at him.

"And what made you decide to send a Ward to deal with a potentially unfriendly, possibly only recently triggered cape with suspected brute powers ?" Her tone made it clear she wanted Triumph to have a very good answer to that.

"With all due respect ma'am, I believed it was the best choice. The man was young, and I believed he would be more willing to talk with Gallant than with me. I was needed elsewhere, and I believed that Gallant is mature enough to handle the matter, and might even provide some additional insight to the man in question. He would also know not to use his own powers or otherwise provoke a response from our guest."

"We will discuss this at length later on, but in the meanwhile I have a short report here from Gallant. I trust you have already read through it?" The director waited until seeing that Triumph gave a somewhat reluctant nod.

"Gallant noted the man in question was initially somewhat receptive but with strangely muted emotional response, before seeming to tense up, and become more wary. Gallant's observations were similar to my own in that the man in question did not appear to consider joining the gangs an option he would willingly take, but he was still resistant to the idea of working with the Protectorate for some unknown reason."

"Why is this man so important? On the paper he is listed as Brute 2 with sub-rating of Mover 1, peak-human but entirely within human limits other than his slow-acting regeneration and apparent damage reduction abilities. He refused the blood examination but the observation from the hospital notes he should have bled to death if not for his powers." Battery sounded honestly curious at this point.

"It is because of what is not in the official papers. Gallant isn't the only one who was having a difficult time coming up with any answers about the man. The Watchdog was requested to provide some additional insight. Their answer came back as 'inconclusive'." Piggot watched the people look at one another in understanding.

"He has some kind of a stranger effect? Why is that not in his file?" Battery tapped on the file on the table, even as Miss Militia looked over her own copy.

"These are the copies that will be available to the rest of the Protectorate and PRT. I imagine you want the last bit kept from the merely restricted files and instead only added to the confidential files?" Miss Militia's question was met with a brief nod.

"Why is this information about this 'Scholar' kept out of the files? Also, what was this guy thinking picking a name making him sound like a thinker when he's a brute?" Assault had managed to stay serious for most of the meeting, so the director decided not to comment on the second question or its importance.

"It is because it appears to be a constant effect he is not possibly even aware of. It may be similar to Glory Girl's aura, manifesting passively to keep him from being read, masking his presence from thinker powers. The fact Gallant got some insight into the man up close but Watchdog's remote attempts provided no additional information also lends credence to the current theory. The fact he tensed up may be similar to Glory Girl's aura flaring up to intimidate her enemies, a response not entirely under the man's own control. As it stands, it is an ability that may leave him unmasked if it gets out to the gangs. I would prefer this information is kept within the PRT ENE's confidential files for now, we will release it if it becomes apparent he intends to use his powers for criminal purposes." Director Piggot may not like the capes too much, but she was not going to just provoke a currently neutral figure into becoming an enemy. Small push to bring him over to Protectorate's side might bear more fruit in the future if they handled things right.

Besides, the man's abilities were hardly impressive enough to warrant too much caution, it was more a matter of respecting the unwritten rules and not exposing his identity unnecessarily. Unfortunately by the time the watchdog's report had come in the man had already left the building, and had not been seen since he had walked away and out of the cameras range.

"If this is all I have to get to my lab." Armsmaster was getting somewhat impatient. His coffee was already gone, and the man would only get more aggravated if kept from tinkering much longer. For all his knowledge and skills with technology, socially he was far from a pleasant man to deal with. At least he was competent when it came to taking down the criminal capes, Piggot thought to herself grimly.

"Very well, meeting adjourned."

Thomas Calvert

Standing at an onsite office in a suit and wearing a safety helmet, Thomas Calvert was reviewing the plans for the latest construction site his company had secured for itself. The shelter would be utilizing some of the new additions Dragon had managed to reverse-engineer from samples of a villainous tinker's base defenses and reinforcements a few months back. Getting his hands on a copy of those would mean his underground base would be getting an upgrade as well in due time.

He was still suffering from a headache after his power had chosen to act up a short while back. He had chosen to stay in his 'safe' timeline, at work, while the one where he had been at PRT and actually witnessed the recent trigger, 'Scholar' completing his power testing.

Looking at the man and his results had not seemed too interesting, until he had began to experience a slowly growing migraine starting to make him uncomfortable. The feeling had built up, and when he had been listening in on the man talking with Gallant a short time later the sensation had lead to physical nausea. It had got to a point he was starting to experience a slight vertigo and worry about fainting at the PRT building and having to go through a brain scan to make sure he was alright.

Dropping that timeline had cost him a chance to bid on a secondary construction effort, a minor loss he could accept, but the fact that this 'Scholar' seemed to make him experience such symptoms lead him to believe the man could become a problem later on.

He finished up going through the paperwork, signing a few documents and taking his own copies along with him in his briefcase he left the construction site, removing the helmet only once he was safely inside his car.

Pulling out a phone, he heard it ring a couple of times as the tinker-tech built in the phone secured the line.

"Yes?" The tired voice answering sounded somewhat muffled. It was no surprise with this particular employee though. They preferred to be active at night anyway.

"I have a possible job for you. There's a new cape in town, currently using the name 'Scholar'. Low-brute, at least on the surface, but possibly something more. I need you to investigate and find out what you can." He preferred to know whether the man could be an asset or if he would be a problem after all, and what approach he should take with this.

"Couldn't this have waited until later?" The voice on the other end sounded somewhat grumpy, but soon spoke again. "Send me the information you have and I'll look into it, but I'm expecting the bonus if this is something you cannot do yourself."

Calvert might not like it, but he was willing to pay extra when necessary. He simply did not want his employees to get greedy. That tended to inevitably result in needing to hire replacements.

"I'll pay for results, and according to what you can find. I don't have other jobs planned for you right now so please be as thorough as you can." It was not really a request but having some manners was better than the alternative. He was no Skidmark, thank you very much.

"Fine. I'll see what I can find and report in when I have some answers, have the files sent and I'll look at them after a shower." After that he heard the click and dial-tone, knowing his employee was going to get to it soon.

He considered asking his pet thinker to take a closer look as well, but then decided against it. If his recent migraine was any indication of what exposure to the man could do to a thinker then he did not want to risk having her caught due to a medical issue. Her power already came with its own migraines after all. Though if she managed to displease him then assigning her to looking around for some additional information in one timeline might be worthwhile.

Putting his phone away and starting the car, Thomas Calvert headed off, the plans for structural reinforcements reverse-engineered from a 'defensive fortification tinker' safely tucked away in his briefcase.

He split the timelines, heading home in one and sending a word to a contact who would send the files for him, while heading over to the base in person in another, intent on having those files forwarded as soon as possible.

Author's Note: A small response to a question posed after last chapter. There was no use of power by Gallant taking place, it was more of an overreaction by the MC to what they thought was power use, while in reality he just honestly thought Gallant had a relaxing friendly presence about him. No power use there, beyond the rather passive emotional vision which would not really have shown.

In short, MC jumped to conclusions and got defensive. They are someone who read Worm long ago, then read a large number of fanworks, and does not have a retroactive perfect memory to tell what is wrong and what is right. In short, it is an in-character mistake by the MC.

I intend to post the proper 1.5 either tomorrow or on Friday, hopefully this interlude will do in the meanwhile. Redid the first part a few times seeing as I tried to write a joking Assault but felt the jokes fell so flat and were inappropriate in a way that did not fit his usual joking, ending up making it a more dry read after an edit.[/hr][/hr]

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Novice 1.5

Sitting quietly in an alley, Thomas Wolf seemed to have fallen asleep sitting still, but in truth he was merely distracted of his surroundings by what went on within his mindscape. A little focus following some time to rest revealed a pair of pools brimming with power, in seemingly liquid form. Arcane, and Divine magic, as he had already labeled them. Though it was quite possibly inaccurate as he did not receive them from a deity but a ROB, but it was the closest analogue he had.

One of them was full of powerful evocations, transformations, illusions and general trickery, a power that could work for dealing with hostile encounters and as a multi-tool for various situations that he might face.

The other offered a boosting, protective feel about it, with a darker shade of curses and inflictions that could be caused with mere word and a gesture. Healing, or harming, it seemed a power more inclined to support than to be used to attack directly.

It seemed to obey some rules of Vancian magic, yet disregard others. It was rule-bound, but it utilized rules that were seemingly drawn from different sources to make a more fitting whole.

His powers, or 'spells' came with slots he could utilize to choose which powers he had available during a given day, and he had a set amount of uses he could spend on any of those chosen powers. Regaining those uses took a mere short rest after a fight, mere minute of catching his breath, but then again that was for the lowest level of power.

He had two pools, three powers a day in each, and six uses for each as well. Twelve 'spell uses' in total before he'd be out of a fight, yet the sheer number of options even at the start was more than most of the grab-bags might boast. The fact those powers would grow in time only made him all the more eager to explore.

The system reminded him of Dungeons and Dragons or Pathfinder role-playing games that they were blatantly ripped out of, but a weird combination of wizards and sorcerers. He could pick spells he 'knew' for a day, and allocate the power through them as necessary, seemingly combining the best of both of those spellcasting classes in the games, and on top of that rather than having to wait a day he seemed to have snatched a quick recovery rate like something right out of the video game versions, allowing a quick breath between fights to replenish that which had been expended.

His choices for the day would still remain locked in until he had a chance to rest and do this 'meditating' or 'planning' again, so it did have its limits.

He made his choices soon enough, picking up the three arcane spells and three divine spells he would have at his disposal for the rest of the day. His choices made, his eyes slowly opened again.

Tom was still alone in the alley, and he didn't really have anything of value to lose so he wasn't too concerned about the possibility of being robbed right away.

'Disguise Self, Mage Armor, and Sleep. Those should do, in case of any surprises.' He thought quietly about his choices. 'Cure Light Wounds, Burning Disarm and Sanctuary for the divine magic in turn.'

Not a particularly aggressive selection, but he was new to the city and preferred some protection and time to learn over stocking up on more aggressive selection. Besides, if it came down to that his bare fists should be enough for common thugs as long as he could prevent any of them from drawing a gun on him. Sanctuary was in case he really had no other options. It was hardly an ideal option, but it would do for now.

He decided to try things out, and a small gesture and a whispered word after his appearance changed. He stood a little taller, with blond hair and blue eyes, a fair skin and dressed in a simple business casual.

Leaving the alleyway behind, he headed off while noticing he was keenly aware of just how long the power, or spell, would last. No getting caught off guard by a power about to end. Better yet, he could just burn a charge to extend it when it was about to run out, without needing a gesture or whisper for that. They were only called for when activating a power it seemed, and they too were quite minimalistic, thankfully.

Unfortunately it was a mere glamour, not real. Anyone trying to touch him would notice the discrepancies. Still, it would do for the time being. Making his way further into the city and away from the PRT HQ, he thought about what had taken place. The PRT were curious, but he didn't believe he had revealed anything of serious note. He didn't quite like the fact he'd forgotten about Gallant and his powers. He had been mostly caught up in thinking about his own new powers and situation.

The fact remained he wasn't sure about the exact details, he only remembered Gallant could both project and sense emotions. He was pretty sure there was talk about blasting them at people, but he wasn't sure if they were always so showy, or if that was mostly when he needed to quickly inflict some particular emotions on a target.

Shaking his head again to get that thought out of his head, he walked along the street while returning his thoughts on Taylor and her situation. As cruel as it seemed, he had a feeling that messing around with her trigger event would be more trouble than it was helpful. Even if the prank was somehow stopped or ruined, the three bullies would find something else to do and might even escalate things further.

He had no good ideas of how to expose them without getting more directly involved, and that would draw the PRT and Protectorate eyes on his person again. He was not too keen on the idea, given that what they knew would get back to Cauldron eventually, and before that it would be in the hands of people like Coil and the rest of the gangs.

Tom was still going to have to decide on how to acquire some funds. If nothing else came up, he could offer to try and tend to some minor wounds for a few extra bucks, while maintaining the apparent illusion in the meanwhile. He still carried the white mask with him to add to the outfit if he so desired.

Truthfully he expected things to only pick up tomorrow when people were not at home nursing a headache after partying so much or enjoying a day off. Possibly even taking until January 3rd, the Monday, before things actually began to get more lively. Not that being shot and then interrogated by the PRT following a power testing was a quiet day either, but business wise it was rather dull.

He looked around for a while, but eventually decided to head on over to the nearby hospital. He had burnt two additional charges in the arcane side so he took a moment to relax before walking up to the hospital itself, replenishing his charges again. He noted that the spell he had already active did not fizzle out and vanish when he did so unlike what he had expected, leaving him to wonder if that would be true for others as well or just for him. If it was for others as well, then it was rather broken and exploitable. Some powers lasted hours or days after all, not just minutes. Even if his disguise spell only lasted ten minutes at a time right now.

Placing the mask on his face, he entered the hospital and noted a few curious and wary looks, before walking up to the woman behind the counter. Looking at her reaching beneath the desk, he spoke up seriously while preparing to turn and walk away if this seemed to cause trouble.

"I am a minor healer. I am not able to do much for serious injuries, or diseases, but I could lend a hand with the smaller injuries, and would be willing to prove this under observation by a doctor if necessary."

"You are serious?" The receptionist looked at him seeming a bit doubtful, but then spoke up again. "I am going to call a doctor to the front desk, and you'll have a chance to prove what you said, but keep in mind that if this is a hoax I suggest you leave now, because we take fraud very seriously." She said this in a tone that seemed to suggest that she expected this to be a scam of some form.

Thomas spent four charges over time, replenishing his illusion, while spending a short moment answering questions and then having to prove his ability worked on a test animal. The results had the doctor and his colleagues seemingly pleased and interested at first, before then telling him to go first talk to the PRT. Apparently they didn't want to accept him without first confirming that his power didn't have any delayed side-effects, not wanting to risk liability.

He could understand it, but it was frustrating waste of time and he found himself leaving the hospital in a somewhat foul mood. They had effectively wasted his time, and while he could spend a night outside, he didn't like the idea, especially with the fact the city was known to house a number of criminal elements that he would prefer not running into in the dark.

Even a crappy motel would cost him forty or fifty bucks, if he wanted to eat something that would be extra, and he didn't have any cash on his person. He had hoped to work out some agreement at the hospital to help deal with the minor injury cases for a small payment. Even if Panacea volunteered in the city, there was bound to be more patients than she could see, and tending to little injuries should have been easy enough, clearing room for the people who had illnesses and other issues that he couldn't help with, and the hospital could still be charging them for the quick heal, he would have just hoped for a small cut to cover his own expenses to stay around.

Having to drag the PRT in it would complicate matters, and Tom didn't want to test if they would detect his disguise right away and put him through a more rigorous questioning and possibly throwing him into Master / Stranger protocols for a while as well.

He had walked a fair bit before entering an alley, preparing to drop the illusion and remove his mask before noticing a lone bum laying there. The guy looked to be hurt, bloody bandages wrapped around his arms, resting back under a makeshift shelter from scrap wood and some metal panels rigged into a small hut missing the fourth wall.

"Easy. I'm not Empire." Tom said this seriously while moving closer. "Show me your hands."

The bum looked suspicious but reached out, and Tom stepped forth to make a gesture and quietly whisper a word before touching the bandaged hands. There was a sharp inhale from the guy before he looked at his hands in surprise, warily removing the wrapping and looking at his hands.

"The fuck?" The bum cussed, and Tom noticed a few small shards of glass dropping from beneath the bandages, and while there were small cuts present, none of them looked big enough to have caused the bloodstains on those bandages.

"Healing. Minor really, but better than waiting around to let them heal by themselves no?" Tom had done it partly out of desire to help, and partly out of curiosity to confirm it worked properly. He was also feeling a little curious about some other things that might not be known to the general populace living off the streets.

"I'm not going to ask for a payment for that, but I would like to know a few things if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions for me." Thomas smiled seeing the bum quickly nod in agreement.

"Good."

Back at a nearby Merchant safehouse, Squealer was cussing loudly in the bathroom trashing the place in anger of the morons that had trashed her cars. Her own car was still fine, but the cars she'd put together because Skidmark asked her to give them some sweet rides to tear up the Empire assholes were gone because those good-for-nothings couldn't stay unlit while driving and had managed to crash and burn with them. Not that she put that much effort into them but it was a matter of pride.

Skidmark himself was in a foul mood. The attack was meant to shake up the Empire and remind them to keep their noses off of Skidmark's turf. They'd been showing up a lot more recently, and doing their little initiations too close to his properties, so slapping them down had been more than overdue. What he hadn't expected was for Hookwolf to be on site at one of those targeted properties.

At least the message had been sent loud and clear, along with a little personal touch. Skidmark had personally seen a couple of loyal Empire boys in charge get their dues, racist pricks had got a bullet in the head and then another just to be sure, and a couple more in the bodies for the laughs. The boys had got a kick out of that one, before the news about Hookwolf tearing them up at another site had come up.

The Merchants had too few capes in their rows, and while they could pull a lot of thugs from their regulars if need be, the empire had numerical advantage with the capes and that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. Even the Asians had a better representation among their numbers with just Lung and Oni Lee. The two of them were bad enough that Skidmark had seen a few guys usually loyal desert rather than fight. They'd been made examples of but it didn't solve the problem.

The merchants needed new recruits. He was thinking about that when he heard some commotion, and saw one of the usual regulars showing up, chatting with the guy at the door excitedly and showing off his hands. Terry something, wasn't that one of the boys he'd used to pull off a smash and grab downtown at the stores, the guy who got glass shards in his hands while grabbing the jewelry in the display cases? Dumb motherfucker didn't even realize the best stuff was in a safe they couldn't break into in the time they had to grab what they could and do a runner.

"Boss, you don't believe what this coked-up shithead just told me." The boy before him seemed a bit doubtful, but gestured at the bum and junkie who stood there showing off his hands with just a couple of nicks and small cuts on them.

"I found a cape boss, a healer, and the dumb son of a bitch even went as far as to ask me about cheap motels so we know where to find him!"

Author's Note: Altruism in Brockton Bay does generally not pay, and a still somewhat overwhelmed main character makes mistakes and assumptions only to be slapped down hard that life is not a fanfic where all goes well and works out all the time.

That having been said, here's the promised update and next part will be either sometime during the weekend or early next week, not sure how busy I'll be on the weekend's side.[/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Novice 1.6

After leaving the company of the bum he had healed with the information he had asked for, Thomas hastened his step somewhat for a while. He looked for another alley, this one suitably empty and abandoned. He had talked to the bum in his tall blond man looks with a mere white mask on his face, and dressed in a fine suit. Meaning the man would probably remember the dress, the blond hair and the white mask. Of those three, only the white mask would remain, and even that would not be worn for now.

Dismissing the glamour he had hid under for a fair while already, Thomas let out a short sigh while scratching the back of his neck. Luck had not been on his side, and he had fallen into the trap of thinking that he was some form of Isekai protagonist. He did not have some absolutely ridiculous protagonist's luck and charm at his side, and while he had power and potential for a lot more he was quite vulnerable here.

Worse, he had no allies, no real resources to call upon, and any immediate plans he had thought of were falling apart. It was not off to a good start at all. If he really had to, he would consider going to the Protectorate and coming clean about his powers. They would likely take him in though wary of him for not telling them everything from the start. He did consider simply stating it took some time for his additional powers to actually show themselves, and he was still learning how to use them anyway.

However, that was the last resort in his opinion. He would be exposed to Cauldron and Coil, and Protectorate's protection would come with strings attached. He might be transferred away, and he had a nasty feeling that would be bad, seriously bad actually. He needed to stay in Brockton Bay for most part, he had little idea of what all went on beyond it after all, and as bad as it might get in Brockton Bay, he'd rather deal with the devil he knew somewhat than the complete unknown of the world beyond.

"What do you think you're doing here white-boy?"

Thomas looked up from having fallen in thought while walking, realizing he was facing a group of four young Asian men, two of who were holding beer bottles and all of whom were looking more than a little drunk. He noted several more empty beer bottles and cans nearby, as well as a pair of empty bottles of stronger drinks left about, as well as a set of two cases that were being emptied by the group.

"You don't look like you belong here."

The apparent spokesman of the group stepped up to him sneering at him, before pulling a knife out of his pocket and holding it up before his face.

"How about you hand over your wallet and walk away, and we'll forget we saw you? Good deal for you, normally we'd beat you and take your money anyway."

Thomas was not amused at all. He called upon his power, and gesturing at the man's face, muttered a word half-audibly. "Slumber."

The thug dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, while the other three seemed surprised. One of them shot on his feet, looking a bit panicked and about to shout while other two were not quite sure what had happened.

"Slumber." Thomas said this while gesturing at their group, satisfied to see the three collapse, two of them just keeling over where they sat but the last one falling on his face dropped something that caught his attention.

Snub nosed revolver. The guy had actually been pulling out a gun on him. That had been close.

Still, it was an opportunity to solve a few problems at least. Looking through the pockets of the four thugs, he was rewarded with a set of three wallets and a money clip. He had no use for their cards, he wasn't about to try and use those, so he simply took their money and added it to the money clip. He left their wallets with them. He did note that two of the thugs had broken their phones falling over, one was refusing to start but didn't look damaged, possibly just out of power, and the last one, well the last one worked.

The phone wasn't even locked thankfully. He noted a few names and numbers in the phone book, but none of them really important to him. It did have access to the net though, so he briefly looked up a phone number to the BBPD, having left the gun and the couple of small bags he had found on the ground near the thugs, not wanting to touch the pills in them.

"Brockton Bay Police Department, how can I help you?" He heard the polite if tired voice of the man on the other end of the line.

"Hey, ah, I was just walking home through the docks area, taking a shortcut, when this group of thugs decided to try and attack me, demanding my wallet. They had been drinking and possibly on some other stuff too, but when one of them pulled a gun the guy twitched and fell over. Someone yelled cape, and then the other three collapsed. I wanted to report this in, but I'm not sticking around." He then proceeded to give them the address from the street signs.

He heard a voice telling him to just wait on the line and that police would be over soon, but he closed the phone and then turned it off. Looking around he grimaced. His fingerprints were on the wallets, even if he doubted he was in the system he couldn't know if they'd taken his prints at the hospital, they had identified him as a cape after all.

Thomas was pretty sure there was some magic to erase such simple evidence, but what was it. Cantrips, he quickly realized. The simple little magical tricks, counterpart to the divine magic's orisons. He had been so excited to get his hands on magic he had paid them very little attention.

He wasn't sure how long he had before the police would show up though. Grimacing, he took a seat nearby, focusing his mind briefly. The attempt to access the powers again took less effort than the first time around, and less time too. Still, what he had already picked was locked in place and unchanging for now, but the cantrips were still free. Four and four, he could pick four of each and use them pretty much at will.

For now, he only needed one. Prestidigitation. A simple spell with various uses, but the most important one at that time was the simple cleaning it could do.

Using it briefly on the objects he had touched, along with the thugs themselves, he used the cantrip to clean things up a little before moving to leave, careful to leave the gun and the pills in open view on the ground.

On one hand, he had just pissed off a few drunk ABB bastards, on the other, he now had a bit over ninety bucks in hand. Enough for a room for the night as long as he didn't mind it being somewhat crappy. If was off-season, but he didn't have a prior reservation, so he figured fifty bucks would be possible, maybe sixty.

It wasn't a sustainable state but getting one night's rest and having a chance to think things over a bit better would help. As it was, he had been stumbling along and that was a good way to get killed. Asking about the city from the thug had resulted in several 'I don't know' answers, and some useful information, but plenty of useless stuff as well.

He knew a few motels he might consider, but at the same time he was somewhat suspicious of the bum.

For all he knew they could be fronts for the thugs and he might end up attacked in the night, rolled over for cash and his organs harvested. Then again, he might just be getting paranoid.

There was also the option of heading somewhere else, but as quality went up the price went up as well.

Moving along he considered his options for a moment, giving a bit of thought to two other groups in the city he had not really given much thought to before. One of them was going to New Wave, and he already owed Panacea for helping him out anyway. Though that would mean being openly unmasked at least in his public persona. Besides, that household held a lot of tension, and he wasn't sure they'd be too eager for new members anyway. It did seem their movement had dried up to a family-business and that was it.

The other option was the group of mercenaries that lived at Palanquin. He didn't think he'd want to become a permanent member of Faultline's gang, but the possibility of some shelter in exchange for helping them out or offering to use his abilities to their benefit was something to consider.

Even just going by the healing ability, he had no doubt that Faultline could bring in people who didn't want to go to a public hospital where Panacea was, and would appreciate his currently somewhat limited magic helping speed up their recovery time, or outright fixing them up good as new depending on the circumstances.

The thing was it would also mean he'd be picking sides and going on the more villainous side of the line at that. Faultline's group were no angels, but they seemed to know not to cause too much trouble in the city itself, taking jobs outside of the city for most part.

He frowned quietly while considering things, before finally deciding to give it a shot. He'd head on over, make a mention of it, and see if it paid out. If not, he'd have provoked some additional attention on his person, if it did, then he might be able to acquire some cash, some shelter, and possibly temporary bit of protection.

Just using his healing magic on people willing to pay a modest sum should let Faultline gather a bit of money off of him and help him build up a bit of capital. Once he was able to use stronger spells and actually boost someone up further it might be his little boosts could come in handy for the group. Though with their limited duration it would be somewhat limited still.

He briefly wondered whether or not it would be possible to do any work on item creation, scrolls or potions. He doubted he could get his hands on materials though, but the thought did provoke some interesting questions. Mostly it had been noted as just money for the materials and the spells to make the effects he wanted happen, but what exactly was that money spent upon, that was not something he was sure about.

Thinking of scrolls, he got a faint impression of needing to use either old parchment, vellum, or high quality paper. As for ink, he needed to have access to good quality ink, which was actually easier in modern age than in the past, meaning that wouldn't cost too much. Lastly, he needed time to focus, and to expend some magic while making the said scroll. Which would be practically worthless to anyone else. Because they would not be able to understand it, or trigger the effect.

He resisted the urge to groan at the way that idea crashed down, but it had opened the door to the possibility of perhaps having access to other magical items later. Enchanting things might not happen anytime soon, but if he did come up with a way to make potions, then buffs and healing potions would definitely draw some interest, possibly adding the classification of some sort of weird chemical tinker to any file that might exist on him.

Thomas decided to at least drop by to see if Palanquin was open, and if it was, if it was possible to have a small chat. He would have to be somewhat careful about it, but from what he'd understood Faultline did not tend to screw people over after a deal was made. She might be more concerned for herself and her crew than others, but he didn't think she wanted to screw over a client unless they were a gods damn mad bomber intent on blowing up the entire city. She didn't want to taint her reputation as a professional.

Still, if it didn't work he'd get himself a room at a motel or some cheap hotel, and call it a night. Tomorrow should be easier with more places open. It would also let him pick a new set of spells if need be, sleep and disguise self had come in handy already, and cure light wounds seemed like something he would not mind keeping as a regular pick for the limited amount of slots at his disposal.

Author's Note: Alright, so, last chapter ended with a short bit on Merchants. I already had the idea for what was going to happen next, so it could be considered a touch of red herring, or foreshadowing for future. Either way, the main character is not making the brightest choices and is still clueless of the true extent of threat he is going to be living under. His 'grace period' of time before the hunters arrive will wear out sooner than he'd like.

I'd like to note that a Cleric/Wizard alone could prove very powerful in due time as a gestalt, if they aren't slowed down by splitting their attention to two classes one at a time but growing in power simultaneously. Add to that the fact the CYOA did not specify Arcane or Divine Magic as particular class, but as a whole. Meaning other spell lists like what Bard or Druid might know are also out there. But on the flip side, even with Gamer's faster learning rate, and Apprentice's addition of the archives, getting to higher level spells takes some time and effort. Time that he does not have, effort which means risking his neck which he doesn't seem to consider too pressing need for right away.

That being said, here's this week's last chapter, I'll see when I have more available during the next week. Also, the first day's taken a lot of chapters and time to proceed, but it is bit of an anomaly, the story is going to pick up pace and not proceed sluggishly in daily life fashion later on.[/hr]

Last edited: Aug 6, 2019

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#36

Novice 1.7

Palanquin was a well known nightclub, so finding out its location didn't take too much effort. Approaching the building a bit warily Thomas noted that it was actually open, although looking relatively quiet and empty at that time.

Still, he walked in and headed on towards the bar section, noting the group of early twenties and some older teenagers dancing around to the beat of music. The bar itself was mostly empty, a couple of guys and gals stopping by to get a drink and retreating to stalls along the side walls with small parties gathered at some of them, leaving the actual bar counter mostly empty.

Taking a seat, he watched the bartender glance at him and move over. An attractive mature woman with a professional look about her, clean uniform and her hair tied up in a ponytail. He briefly wondered if the part about Faultline working in the bar unmasked was just fan works bit he'd read somewhere or if it was possible he was actually looking at the woman in question.

"Welcome to Palanquin, what would you like to drink?" There was a friendly tone present at least, but he wasn't sure how long it would last.

"I'd like some Jagermeister if you have any in stock, and a couple of questions if I may."

She moved to lift a bottle off the shelf and pour him a shot, earning a nod in gratitude as he paid for it. Lifting the shot glass up, he silently wondered if his gamer body would allow him to get drunk in the first place but gulped down the shot in quick order. At least the taste and effect seemed to be as he remembered, a little comfort in an otherwise screwed up world.

"Phew. Another, please. Also, I am not sure of their accuracy, but I did hear something about this place possibly having connections to a group I am kind of curious about. Faultline and her crew." He watched the bartender pour him another shot but look at him seriously at the mention of Faultline, before pushing his drink in front of him.

"There is nothing illegal going on at this club, and I would prefer you do not insinuate anything like that or I may be forced to ask you to leave." She stated this calmly but the look in her eyes was a bit warning.

"Fair enough, I did consider the possibility it was merely a rumor but I had to ask. After all, I wanted to try and contact her about a possibility of some work. Bodyguard work, nothing bad." He let out a sigh taking the drink. "Though it is not as if there's that many leads on how to do it, so I apologize if my question seemed a bit crude and blunt." Tom smiled while gulping down the second Jager shot.

"I see." The woman seemed to look at him seriously for a short moment, before lifting the bottle and looking at him. He pushed his glass over still holding onto it, and she poured him a third shot that he paid for promptly. It was about as much as he was going to drink in a single evening anyway, too expensive and he could feel the alcohol having an effect, a slight one but still an effect.

"I would imagine the rumor got started because some of their group occasionally do visit. I can't promise anything as they are clients like any other, but I can pass word onto them if you wish to leave a note of some sort."

"Got a pen and some paper?" He inquired in turn, and watched her simply hand him a sheet of paper along with a ballpoint pen. He returned the empty shot glass in turn, and began to write down a short message. This could turn out to be a risk and the chance was there that he would not get any reply, but he decided to take that chance and wrote down a relatively short message in the hopes of drawing their interest.

'I am a stranger in a strange land, my memories seemingly lost to me, yet spoken to by PRT showing no signs of the usual mark of such an occurrence. Yet when I awoke I already had some power, a slight stronger body and a touch sharper mind. This is what the PRT learned, but not all I gained.

Within me lies a bit more power, but that is power that takes some time and effort to tame. I am vulnerable for now, and a man without a home and regular income may not last long in this city, especially a cape who seeks to stay apart from the conflict of the gangs and the PRT and Protectorate. At least stay apart from them until strong enough to survive any small skirmishes.

One of the powers I gained however, is a somewhat simple healing power. It is not useful for fighting off disease or poisonous substances and such, but it is capable of restoring body from wounds inflicted by violence or accidents, making body heal in moments what might otherwise take weeks or months to recover from. Limited as it currently is, I believe it is still a gift that might be worth using, especially for those who might not be able to simply walk up to a hospital for treatment.

I would like to ask for some shelter and protection in exchange for an equal share in any payments acquired through such healing. I would be quite willing to work to earn my stay, though hoping to build up some spending money while doing so.

One last thing. The letter imprinted on the bodies of unfortunate few? From my blurred memories and arrival here, a name did stick to my mind that might tie into it, though I know not for sure exactly how.

Cauldron

I urge for caution should you investigate the name however, for their relative anonymity seems to be evidence of ability to erase traces of their presence quite effectively.

I'll wait in the bar till it is late, and then head off. I shall seek to return tomorrow again should I not meet you today.

Dated January 1st, 2011

'Medic'.

Folding up the letter and then handing it over to the bartender, he returned the pen as well and glanced about. Most of the place was still empty, it was just some youngsters gathered to continue partying after the new years eve it seemed.

"I'll have a beer and moving to a booth to wait for a bit, I'll head out if it gets too busy." He said this in a serious tone, and waited as the bartender poured him one as per his request. Paying for the drink he then headed over to a booth, still enough money in his pocket for a motel room but not much more to spare. Drinking at clubs wasn't too cheap after all.

Tom sipped on his beer while settling back to wait. He pulled out the phone he'd turned off earlier, briefly wondering if he should just abandon it, or keep it around even if it risked him being traced. He had turned it off for now, but abandoning it somewhere would be a safer option, after a prestidigitation to clean off any evidence of him off of it.

On the other hand, he might be overthinking it and being paranoid. Having a chance to surf the web and see about the PHO might prove interesting too after all. He doubted he'd made anyway waves yet personally, but it might be worth having a look about the rest of the business going on the boards might illuminate him on.

He had fallen into thought while sipping on his beer, when someone walked up besides his booth and spoke up in a serious tone of voice. "Sir? I will have to ask you to come with me for a moment."

She was dressed in a uniform similar to the woman at the counter, but had a more guarded expression, and looked a touch taller and stronger as well. She might just be one of the local bouncers, but she might also be someone in touch with those who he sought.

Standing up, he finished up his beer setting it down, and then moving to follow along after her. She seemed only interested in having him follow along thankfully. Leading him to a door to the back, he was feeling a bit more hopeful he wasn't just getting thrown out, but at the same time a little nervous about the fact he might just be walking in to a meeting with people who were quite possibly dangerous criminals regardless of any perceived neutrality.

He found himself lead to a small office, where he found himself faced with a woman in a familiar mask and outfit.

"I am a busy woman, so let me start by telling you now that if you are serious then you will need to prove your ability. If you are merely foolish cape-chaser, you better come clean now when all it will yield is a severe warning and being thrown out. I give you one chance to back away, after this, you'll need to prove you can do what you claim."

Thomas nod his head and stood still before her. "I am serious, and if you have someone who has suffered an injury or bruise nearby I can demonstrate the power on their person."

He had just said that when the woman who lead him to the room raised her foot up and slammed it onto the nearby desk, rolling up the pants leg enough to show a nasty bruise somewhat above her ankle.

"Then you will get your chance. Rachel here is very good at keeping rowdy troublemakers in check, but the new years eve brought in a few particularly nasty sorts, and she suffered a nasty kick from a steel tipped boot in the middle of it. I expect you to prove you can heal by helping her."

He nodded his head and then moved to place his hand down on the injury, a short chant under his breath not going unnoticed by either of the women though they did not comment. The brief glow of his hand and the affected area was followed by him raising his hand off of it.

The bruise was still there, but smaller, and looking like it was well on its way to recovery.

"My ability sends a small amount of healing energy to the individual I am touching, I can apply it multiple times for bigger injuries." He stated this while lowering his hand on the leg again, and after a repeated casting saw the bruise was mostly gone, followed by raising his hand and showing the difference to the two quiet women. Pressing his hand down one final time, he cast the spell once more, and withdrew a hand from unblemished skin.

"Rachel?" Faultline addressed the woman he had tended to.

"Just a short rush of warmth and a light numbness which passed rather fast, the pain it was giving lessened from the first use, was practically negligible after the second one, and no evidence of it having been there left after the third."

Faultline nod at the woman, who then moved her foot off the desk, and covered it up again. She moved to a corner of the room while Faultline turned to regard him in turn.

"Regarding your offer, I am willing to connect you with people in need of a healer's services as well as provide you with temporary accommodations as well as necessities. However, it will be seventy-thirty split, as I am taking a risk on you." She spoke in a no-nonsense manner that made him get a feeling she wasn't looking to bargain with him but making an offer.

"Panacea's skills are better, but she works at a hospital where some wounds would call for a lot of unwelcome attention. I believe the Empire has a healer in their rows, but it is unlikely she will aid others beyond the Empire's ranks. While my powers are limited, I believe they are still a valuable commodity. Fifty fifty seems more fair, I am grateful after all, but I do hope to also make some profit out of this as well." He answered her in a same serious fashion. He had another option remaining still, but he would prefer some protection on his person and that meant having to find either allies or at least willing companions.

"Sixty forty, there will be expenses from keeping you here under watch after all. The higher the price the less people will come, but I don't know your limits. Can you keep healing indefinitely or will you need a break ?" She watched him after posing the question.

"I can heal five times without issue, and after that it takes me just a short break of a couple of minutes to go again. Assuming I can tend to a client in a minute or two, I could easily handle having people come in every seven minutes or so, in a crisis I could push to recover a bit faster, but might probably end up worn down faster that way."

He didn't want to give her all the information but claiming there were no limits would be dangerous, and making it sound like he felt at least a little strain might probably seem more plausible. Powers might be bullshit sometimes, but they did seem to occasionally come with muscle fatigue or something similar with them as well.

"Then, if you are willing to agree to sixty forty, we can do business." She watched him intently as he considered it. Losing ten percent more after having been willing to part with as much as half was annoying, but he was somewhat weak and while she was a mercenary he felt she would keep up her own end of the deal. With a nod from his part, they had an agreement.

"Well then 'Medic', I'll have Rachel arrange a room for you to stay in, and I'll start making some calls. You will face your first clients tomorrow. I also suggest you wear a mask in their presence, because the word will get out there's a healer here and while it will draw some attention from clients, it will also draw some interest from the gangs. Which means you will likely be remaining indoors for most of the time, and will have to be careful about what the clients will see when they come here."

It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Having a place to stay and a source of some income for the future made a definite difference. Of course, they had not talked about exact sum for the healing yet, but given she also wanted to benefit from his skill he was reasonably sure she would look up a fair price for the services rendered. He would just have to make sure it was the price she also told him. While he doubted she would try, the thought of getting swindled certainly did not appeal to him.

Nevertheless, not a word about Cauldron was spoken while Rachel was in the room, so he assumed while she might be aware of some things, there would be matters that would not be spoken of in presence of anyone but the actual members of Faultline's gang.

Author's Note: I am not sure if I should make an Informational reply at some point about the magic system in use or not. Nevertheless, it is a bit of a mixture, DnD may be the original source, but being somewhat more familiar with Pathfinder I have made use of its systems and structure for this as well.

Arcane and Divine magic are separate, though similar systems he has access to thanks to his picks. He is able to pick from a vast library of spells thanks to Archive, and select the spells he 'knows' for the rest of the day, utilizing them like a sorcerer afterwards with select amount of charges per spell level that he can use on any of those 'known' spells. As such, stealing the best parts from Wizard (the vast library of options) and Sorcerer (relative freedom to cast whatever he has picked as an option).

Additionally, rather than a 'charge' being expended for the rest of the day, he can recover them over time. For the first level spells, it is a short amount of time, but the later levels, once he might reach them, may prove to take longer to recover and thus necessitating some more strategic use for them.

The 'recovery' is something stolen from Video Game systems, played in by his Gamer power, and the aspect that makes him more or less a broken build, if given the chance to grow, learn, and harness the stronger powers.

However, while he may have started early before the others, that grace period of time is limited.

I am somewhat torn whether to post a short interlude next, or continue with another chapter directly.[/hr]

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#49

Novice 1.8

Spending a night in a guest room at the top floor of the Palanquin, Thomas was feeling a lot better after a good long shower and a chance to eat. Even if he had some doubts about working with, or possibly working for Faultline, he had to admit it beat the option of a crummy motel room. He glanced at the windows, noting that the guest room provided bullet proof glass windows to it. He did not touch the curtains, even if he did not really expect anyone to be already after him.

The tray with his breakfast on it had been delivered to the table when he was in the attached bathroom, leaving him briefly wondering if he could simply walk out of the room or no. Not that he was in a particular hurry, but he did feel he would have preferred to have something to do, and there was no computer present in the room.

Opening the door to the hallway he found the hallway empty at the time, but it did not remain so for long. Rachel, the bouncer from last night, had just arrived walking up the nearby stairs and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Good morning. I was wondering if it was possible to borrow a laptop or a tablet computer for a while? I was interested on checking the web after all."

"I'll check with the boss first, but I should be able to get a laptop for you, if she permits it."

Thomas nod his head at that. He wasn't expecting much more anyway. He was still a relative unknown for Faultline, a person that might provide her with some profit, but that remained to be seen. Returning to his room and sitting down, he closed his eyes to focus on the powers again, calling upon them to make his choices for the day.

Switching his selections around for the day, he settled down to wait for a moment. Half an hour later he had the laptop he had asked for, and a note saying that he would have a client showing up just past noon, and another one half an hour later.

He took a moment to log in onto the PHO forums, and looked around briefly for any threads possibly related to himself. Finding none, he merely shook his head slightly and then continued to look around the actual threads about the things ongoing at Brockton Bay and the rest of the U.S.

What was revealed was bit of an unpleasant surprise. The country was having a number of criminal capes that had more than earned a kill order, but were being spared. There were people who would have already been sentenced to either death or life in prison if they were not capes. Some of them in Brockton Bay, but several more beyond it.

The country was in a poor state, and he had a feeling Cauldron's activities encouraging trigger-inducing environments were at least partially to blame. A large share of the guilt still belonged to the Endbringers, but the part that Cauldron had played in things should not be underestimated. He had a feeling at least half of the cape crooks could be put down by regular servicemen by a short military conflict, but the civilians would cry out at such actions and Protectorate and PRT heads would rage at the intrusion on their perceived territory.

Slaughterhouse Nine was at least on a short list to be taken down by any means necessary, and they knew it, preferring to travel around undetected until they were already surrounded by people and no longer a feasible target for an airstrike. Mobilizing the troops to catch them had even been considered it seemed, but the threat of Siberian and Crawler seemed to make them hesitant to use either option without stronger firepower behind them for taking out those heavy hitters.

He continued browsing for a while, before a knock was heard at the door. Walking over and opening it , he found himself looking at his first real Case-53. Given the look of the guy, he knew who it was. "Newter, right?" Tom smiled on seeing the guy nod.

"I'd shake your hand and tell you it is good to meet you, but well, I imagine Faultline wants me to show up downstairs now?" He asked this with a smile on his lips while Newter smirked slightly.

"Yes, and I was told to remind you to put on your mask. You didn't appear to have a costume with you when you arrived, but we did arrange something for you to wear to help conceal your features beyond the simple mask." After having said that, Newter held out a closed case for him which Tom took curiously.

Opening it, he found it to contain a long black robe and a plain white mask, as well as black gloves to go along with it. He hummed briefly and nod. "Alright, I'll change and come with you."

The robe was quickly pulled on top of the rest of his clothes, the gloves put on, and the mask in place. Newter then lead him down to the basement level, where he found Faultline and two others in her group standing around. One of them appeared to be Gregor from what he could figure, the other was a woman he wasn't familiar with right away.

Gregor's body was a bit strange with the translucence of the skin giving out a view like a shadow of the bones within, reminding him of just how the Case-53 had to suffer from unusual mutations alongside their powers. The little growths along his skin were a touch more disturbing, but he preferred to not mention them or even look at them for long, merely nodding at the man in brief greeting.

The woman in turn had a green mask and robe on her figure, the robe having some puzzling design reminding him of a maze. The thought of that sparked recognition. Could she be Labyrinth? He had not expected to meet with her.

"Good to see you are up and ready, Medic. Your first patient has arrived, and is waiting. They suffer from an old wound that is still bothering them, and are quite willing to pay generously for your aid. Your share will be $4,000."

That was more than he expected, but he nodded his agreement. When escorted to the other room, he quickly realized why this was. The man was dressed in a fine suit, and looking quite respectable, but there was a sense of danger about him that made him wonder what lay in his background. His suit's sleeve had been pushed up along with the under shirt to reveal his right arm, upon which severe burn scars remained, the other sleeve similarly pushed up to reveal nasty permanent burns, though these ones were smaller than the ones on the right.

"You are the healer? I hope you can do something about this. Panacea is busy and does not appear willing to take someone in even at a promise of donation to her or the hospital, and the hospital staff seem to regard skin grafts difficult due to depth of some of these burns." The man had an accent he couldn't quite place, it sounded like it could have been Russian or something from Eastern Europe, but he wasn't going to make any wild guesses on that.

"Alright, this looks like it may take a few uses of my power, but I am hopeful that we can fix this." Thomas spoke seriously before moving to the man's side.

He focused on his power, and started casting. The burns were nasty, he doubted the man could use his right hand properly with those burns and the fact they weren't wrapped up in bandages made him wonder. A thought occurred if surviving Lung would leave someone with similar burns, but he did not ask.

The first spell seemed to bring some relief as the man let out a short breath and closed his eyes. Ignoring that, Thomas continued, sinking the second, third, and fourth charge into the burnt arm, watching the ruined skin seem to start to dry up, and actually shed, revealing red raw but smooth skin beneath. He noted the man's other arm had also recovered while he had focused on the right, the four castings having left the man with what seemed like mere sunburn. It felt a bit of a waste, but he spent a fifth charge to clear up even that, relieved to note that despite how bad the burns had looked, he had not needed a stronger spell to deal with them.

If there was any ability damage, he would have needed restoration spells, but if there was any it didn't show, and the man's disbelieving but joyous expression at lifting his hands and looking over them and his arms made him smile behind his mask.

"This is marvelous! Worth the price! Hah-haa! Good work my boy, good work." The man grinned and actually slapped his shoulder afterwards, before moving to check himself over before a mirror.

Faultline stepped in to take care of things after that, while Newter gestured him to join him back in the other room afterwards, a grin on his own face.

"Good work there, do you need a bit of rest now? We've got half an hour before the second client we are expecting."

Thomas nod his head slightly and took a seat nearby, humming briefly to himself. "I should have brought the laptop with me."

After dealing with the second client, a short woman with a gunshot wound in her guts, Thomas was resting back in his room again. The second client had been a fugitive, and unfortunate bystander to a recent gang fight which resulted in her getting shot. She had offered less for her aid, but he had still received $2,500 for providing some emergency aid.

The bandages had been soaked, but a healing spell had staunched the worst of it, and another casting had seen the bullet emerge from the wound before it was mostly closed up. It had been sufficiently healed up to recover from naturally at that point, and Faultline had waved him back rather than having him continue healing her.

He had noted to himself that he'd got his hands on a sum of $6,500 in such a short time after worrying about less than a hundred bucks yesterday, that sometimes a day's time could really change things around.

Quick math also told him that he'd made just under ten thousand dollars for Faultline as well, so he hoped that would convince her that having him around would be beneficial. Though he did want to spend some of his money to get some additional clothes for himself. Faultline had already dropped off a card with an account now holding a sum of $4,000 on it, and the other $2,500 having been handed over in cash.

"Hey Newter, if I wanted to go out and visit a store, would I be able to or am I supposed to stay indoors?" He asked this seriously, not quite sure what he would answer.

"If you want to leave, you can, but we can't send someone out to follow you around town if you go. You are protected while here, but your contract doesn't include protection around town. You're also expected to be around when there's a client coming. Speaking of which," Newter got up and moved to a nearby shelf, before picking up a small box on it, and setting it down before Thomas.

"A burner phone. Faultline's number is on it, and she has the number to it on her own. Keep it with you, and if you are called back you come back in a hurry. Alright?" Newter looked at him seriously before Thomas nodded his agreement.

"Okay, then you are free to go. Use the back door, if you need to get back in just ring the second number on the phone and someone will come open the door for you. Don't worry about it going unanswered." There was a brief smirk on Newter's face at that.

He stashed $2,400 off in his room while taking just an extra hundred in addition to what he had left from last evening in his pocket, the debit card resting in his pocket as well after he had briefly memorized the four digit code for it.

Stepping out, he found himself letting out a heavy breath. It had been somewhat nerve wracking wondering if they considered him a prisoner or not, and if there would be limitations to his freedom. The fact their protection didn't extend beyond their business was a bit disappointing, but he had not specified things about it when making an agreement with Faultline. She held onto her own part, but he shouldn't expect freebies from her.

If he did run into trouble and needed help, he was relatively sure she would insist on him paying extra for it. Not that he was too concerned about that right at that moment. Instead, he decided to head on over to the boardwalk and have a look around.

"Why do I put up with you?" Brian sighed wearily as he looked at the smug smirk on Lisa's face, shaking his head.

"Oh come on, that wasn't really all that bad." Lisa waved off Brian's concerns while snatching away a couple of the black boy's french fries, chomping down on them while looking around the old diner thoughtfully.

"Not that bad? Lisa, we almost had a fight at our hands! Please don't pick fights with people who wouldn't hesitate to try and kill us."

Brian sincerely wished Lisa was taking him more seriously. The smug vixen seemed completely unconcerned and unrepentant of the fact their recent theft had left ABB furious at them. It was only the fact they had only got off with a relatively small amount of loot that kept them from trying to hunt them all down. The fact the boss paid them for harassing the ABB at that particular hour made up for the small amount of loot they had received, in exchange for some of the papers.

"You're exaggerating." Lisa said this bluntly while trying to snatch a bit more of his fries only to have him give her hand a light swat.

"No Lisa, I am serious, we should not antagonize people when it is not necessary."

"Not my fault the guy's girlfriend was less than faithful, he already knew but didn't want to admit it, I just put the clues together for him in a way that he could no longer deny when he tried to threaten us." Lisa flashed that damnable smile once more and Brian leaned his face against his palm, elbow on the table, and sighing loudly.

"Look, I-" Lisa started to speak before pausing, looking out of the window confusedly, and frowning.

"What the fuck?" She stated while staring at a guy in black jeans and a grey sweater walking in the diner and walking past their table, her eyes following him.

"Something wrong?" Brian asked in a lower tone of voice, causing her to turn her gaze to him.

"That guy, my power is telling me only that he is 'completely ordinary guy, ignore.' No details, no life history or other clues, nothing. It is the first time that's happened to me." Lisa looked more than a little troubled by this, causing Brian to look over at the man's direction as well and frowning.

Author's Note: If bad timing and bad luck were possible to take in drawbacks, they might explain part of what is going on. Other ideas include the old Chinese curse of 'may you live in interesting times'.

As for nerfing the healing, hmm. A single casting of it is enough to stabilize and save a life, several can eradicate harm. Immediate damage can be dealt with relatively easily, damage that has 'set in' and not recovered over time has been seen taking bit more effort but still within healing capabilities.

As said, we'll see along the way. I considered writing more and polishing up what is seen above, but decided to just post it today as it is in the end.[/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Aug 8, 2019

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#54

Novice 1.9

Sitting down after ordering his meal, Thomas leaned back in his seat wondering about what he would do in the following few days. Trying to let canon events occur seemed a tad naive to him, the canon was likely already derailed by his arrival, and while Taylor triggering could lead to her becoming strong enough to stand on her own, it would also be the worst day in her life.

There was not much time if he did want to interfere, but if he did, he had no idea how to prevent it from backfiring. The bitchy trio would surely come up with something even worse if left by themselves, but they were protected by both Winslow's administration and the PRT, though he had a feeling with PRT it was more a matter of Shadow Stalker's handler being too damn comfy at their position and not wanting to rock the boat even if they did get notified of what she was up to.

Either way, whether she triggered or not it would be some time before the canon events of the story might start occurring. Depending on whether or not the events prior to that would butterfly some of the things away, it could be useful foresight into things or absolutely useless garbage of what may have happened if things had gone differently. Relying on the stations of canon to hold true was reckless optimism if the derailment of the plot reached a point of no return even before the beginning after all.

"Here's your order, sir." The waitress passing him a tray holding his meal looked more than a little tired, but he nodded in gratitude before she headed off again. The place may have held the name of a diner but it was more of a fast food joint with some crumbling remnants of an attempt to be more evident.

Nevertheless, he snatched up a few fries and began eating while glancing around, noticing for most part a rather normal crowd. He did note a young teenage couple at one of the tables, whispering a bit frantically. Black guy and white girl. Thomas thought they were a little bold since this place was in a neighborhood that the Empire was often seen frequenting, but then again the chances of being targeted were probably less than he imagined them to be.

Thing was, he was pretty sure he saw the guy look his way before the girl said something and he averted his gaze quickly, making him wonder. Choosing to ignore them for now, he focused on his meal instead, intent on eating up and then doing a bit of shopping. Having a few more outfits would not be a bad idea, his current one would begin to stink pretty bad after a few days if he didn't.

A message on his phone caught his attention, and he glanced at its contents. Another client, reservation in two hours. The note stated the client was someone who had severe chemical burns on their person, and a criminal record. It was an attempt to see whether he could erase that kind of damage as well.

If it wasn't a disease or poison he was relatively confident he could do something about it, but if it counted as ability score damage, it might be more difficult. He was still trying to figure it out, but texted back a brief acknowledgement and stated he'd be back in time after finishing a short shopping run to have more than 1 outfit to walk around.

Finishing his meal, he took the tray back briefly and dumped his trash into a can before heading out. Heading down the street, he headed to the stores, intent on looking around for a bit and getting some basic clothes to start with, possibly a few things that amused him. No big spending sprees, even if he was amused to have money at his disposal again. Getting some new clothes was fine, but he did not want to overdo it.

He walked along at a steady pace, occasionally glancing at his reflections in mirrors for any signs of people trying to follow after him, but did not notice anyone seemingly pay him particular attention. The slight feeling of being watched did not go away though.

Thomas stepped in to a store soon after, and got started in looking through what they had to offer. Shirts, pants, unmentionables and socks, he wanted some basics, but also picked up a new warmer coat. Shoes would have to wait, the ones he had would have to do for now. Gathering up what he'd chosen, he walked over to the counter and waited as the assistant quickly totaled up his purchases.

He paid for his purchases and headed out with his shopping bag, intent on returning to the club. While walking away he noted he could see a couple of guys in the crowd that seemed too focused on him rather than the shopping for him to ignore them. He also noted a van parked a bit further off, with the markings of a delivery service on the side. Yet he saw the driver looking his way as well.

The tension mounted for a moment, as he prepared for any trouble they might be starting. Too many civilians around right now, but that might not last for long. Moving on he opened up his phone and watched as one of the men paused to stare at a window, seeming to mutter to himself.

Moving away, he kept his phone in hand but did not make a call yet. Instead, he simply texted a message to Faultline. 'Heading back. Saw a few guys staring at me along the way, and a van parked nearby with a guy staring at me. Might be nothing but going to stick indoors for a while after this.'

He sent the message while heading along, and noted to his relief the group did not seem to follow him. He thought about the different possibilities, and came up with one particular idea rather quickly. Coil. He did feel somewhat doubtful of that possibility though, he had only been in the city for a short while and should not have drawn Coil's attention to him just yet.

Could it be they were just there for another reason, possibly early observation on Dinah? He doubted that as well. Dinah's situation had been a lot later in canon, and he wasn't sure if she'd really triggered yet. Besides, he had a strong feeling they had been watching him. Whether or not that was true, he would be more careful for now.

Remembering the possibility of Coil using his power against him, he frowned quietly while wondering if he had just avoided another timeline. If so, he would have to assume Coil might be aware he wasn't quite as docile and harmless as he seemed. Though again, the idea of Coil taking an interest in low level brute seemed ridiculous to him, after all, the man already had his own little games going on, and the troops had shown up too fast in his opinion to have really been after him. Then again, underestimating the man might be foolish to the extreme. Coil often got a lot of hate from the fandom, but the man had been quite capable, and he really did not want to spend time drugged up somewhere made to use his abilities for Coil's sake. Then again, he wasn't sure if the Gamer's abilities would overcome any such effects over time.

Reaching the Palanquin, he called the second number on the phone, and a moment later the door was opened. Stepping in and closing it behind him, he made his way to his room letting out a relieved sigh after feeling a bit more secure. Ironic, he was trusting his life in the hand of mercenaries and that made him feel safe. Coil was working through mercenaries as well, but he had a feeling that Faultline would still honor her deal even if Coil did make an approach towards her. He wasn't a hundred percent certain of that, so he would keep on his guard though.

Regardless, as he sat down and closed his eyes, he felt a small rush of something course through him. A feeling of light empowerment catching him momentarily off guard. His senses were a little sharper, his body a bit tougher and he felt his reflexes and speed had risen lightly as well. He also felt like his magic had just loosened up some of the shackles restraining it, easing up on him.

That provoked a lot of questions, but a theory did occur to him that made him wonder. Perhaps even if Coil did end up trying something, he kept the experience from one timeline in the other? That didn't make any real sense though, as Coil's power appeared more of a reality simulation where he picked the best path, and then his body moved on auto-pilot to that point. The 'discarded path' was not supposed to even exist.

Which made him wonder if he was misremembering the word of god on that matter or not. Too much fan made stories to be sure, but he was pretty sure it could not be that. Perhaps it was simply the fact he'd been healing people up earlier and this was the first time since then that he had relaxed and focused somewhat inwards again.

It wasn't a big increase, not enough to reach the second level of spells yet, but it was an improvement regardless. Which gave him hope that leveling would not be behind a lot of hard work and effort at least in the beginning. A smile crossing his lips, he let out a short chuckle while considering what would become available in some levels. He might be feeling vulnerable now, but an increased level would bring with it more power and more options in case a fight did break out.

"Best to forget about it for now, get ready to see the client, and make a bit more money." He opened up his shopping bag beginning to lay down the clothes onto the bed to set them aside for now. Glancing at the nearby robe and mask left for him in the room. Faultline was right, he should keep his face concealed, and quite possibly not just when performing his healing trick. If he had caught the attention of the players in Brockton Bay, he had to be a bit more careful about stepping out.

"It looks better, but I don't feel like my legs are back to normal. They're a bit stiff still, same with my hands." The client's words certainly answered a few questions on his mind from before.

"It is possible the damage from the burns has left damage that my power is not able to clear out right away. You no longer display any evidence of the chemical burns themselves, but their side effects seem to have rooted themselves a bit deeper." Medic shook his head slightly.

"I may be able to come up with a way to fix that but it will take some time. It is an improvement but not a total cure right now though." He looked at the man in question, and received a somewhat disappointed look and a nod in turn.

"I hope you don't expect me to pay extra for finishing the job later." The man's tone sounded somewhat annoyed but Medic merely shook his head at that.

"Faultline handles that part. I will abide her decision on that matter."

The man looked somewhat annoyed not getting his way, but seemed to understand that the healer cape was serious about what he said, before turning around in a swift manner and storming out, even as Gregor let out a sigh.

"Unfortunately you'll see a lot of people like that. If they don't get everything right then and there they'll complain and raise an issue about it. You'd think they'd be a little bit grateful no longer looking as eye-catching as they were upon arrival."

Thomas winced and nod his head. The man had received a splash of chemicals all over, and while clothes had protected him somewhat, the man had suffered severe chemical burns on his legs, arms, and his face. Hell, the man had shown up wrapped up in bandages escorted by two others into the room, and had left the room with clean skin and no longer wincing in pain at every step.

Yet they had been already trying to argue about price for continuing the job. He was pretty sure that it would take some time to get his hands on any Restoration spells, so the man would have to wait anyhow.

Faultline entered the room shortly after and looked at Medic seriously.

"What happened?" She had a no-nonsense tone that made him feel like he was a mouse staring at the eyes of a big predatory cat all of a sudden.

"The wounds themselves could be healed, but if there was something wrong with the nerves afterwards it seems that my power is not strong enough to fix them right away. I am still learning about it though, so I expect to be able to fix it, eventually, but for now I would rather not try something that might not work or possibly even aggravate the situation worse." He spoke a half-lie covered in parts of truth.

"We are still trying to find your limits so I can accept that, but you don't agree on any pro-bono work for clients. He claimed you have already promised to finish the job for no additional pay, but I made sure he knows that isn't going to happen, nor did he get a partial refund. He came here knowing it might not fix all of his problems, and your efforts so far already returned him a normal skin and looks that won't make children scream and cry." She sounded somewhat amused towards the end of the statement, but still watched him seriously.

"I did not agree to any free jobs, I told him that you handle all of those matters." Thomas defended himself, and Faultline saw Gregor nod as well before she nodded in turn.

"Good. We'll face more people like him at times, so you have to stand your ground. Truthfully you seem a little bit too timid for this life, but you have done well so far. Also, the payment for that was $15,000 so your share is $6,000 more." She stated this seriously.

"Given the extent of damage he'd suffered I think he doesn't value his life very high to have refused to pay any higher." Thomas shook his head while Faultline glanced away.

"There are people curious about this, but still doubtful of your ability. Give it a week or two and we may draw in people from further away who are willing to pay more. The more known you become however, the more trouble you will attract as well. I will make some inquiries about what you saw today, but I am going to have to ask you to not wander off alone for now."

"I can agree with that." He nodded his head and quietly thought about Taylor's situation. It seemed like he would not be intruding, not right away at least. Too little time, and he had no proper plan to help her. Perhaps Thomas might have a better chance to help out later on, once he had gained some additional power for himself as well.

"On that note, I was wondering if you could acquire some things for me. I was hoping you could acquire some good quality paper, couple of artist's pens and some premium ink." He looked at her and saw her stare back at him.

"Is this for personal reasons or is it something I should know about?" She looked at him intently at the time, the mask not giving him any idea of what she was thinking behind it, but those eyes he saw making him feel a bit wary of angering her.

"That remains to be seen. It could turn out useful, or it could be a failure. I do not know before I try, it is just a hunch I experienced while thinking about my powers earlier."

She nodded and left the room, while Thomas let out a sigh and headed back upstairs as well. Staying indoors for a few days would mean potentially dealing with clients but otherwise a dull bit of time. It also meant not being out there to help Taylor.

Part of him felt like he was betraying her to a horrible fate, another told him that he had no duty towards her beyond common decency, and he also knew that rushing in could potentially make things worse. Being careless might lead Sophia taking more violent action towards Hebert at some point and not cause her to trigger but to potentially cause her to die. Besides, Taylor would likely react poorly to any stranger suddenly stepping in to stand by her side. The girl had been through enough that she was a mess emotionally already.

Better to build up his power and aid her later. He might not owe her anything, but he felt some sympathy towards her for all the crap she had been forced to go through in the canon after all. Maybe volunteer to help out at the hospital, maybe walk in there under disguise and heal her and possibly some others under disguise to mask the fact he'd been there for her specifically.

Either way, he wasn't going to be able to stop what was going to happen in a few days' time, especially if he was already drawing attention from parties he'd rather not deal with at this point.

Aug 9, 2019

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#58

Novice 1.B - Interlude (Director Piggot, Skidmark, Coil, Tattletale)

January 5th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

Director Piggot

The year had not began with good signs, the gang activity had been on the rise despite Armsmaster's constant patrols around the city, something that the Protectorate tinker was less than pleased about. There had not been too many clashes between capes thankfully, but that didn't mean that the gangs weren't on the move, and there had been more than a dozen bloody fights involving a number of gang members armed with guns.

The merchants had stirred the hornet's nest provoking the Empire, but the Empire had been creeping around what Merchants considered their turf, so both were provoking one another and it was really causing a mess. There had been a fight breaking out at the boat graveyard over what had been thought to be a freshly triggered tinker, though no evidence remained of such. It could have been a mere scavenger but the fight had got bad enough the PRT had to react when unconfirmed reports of Hookwolf and Alabaster being on the scene along with Squealer's battletruck had reached them.

The devastation certainly lent some credibility to the rumor, but there had been nobody there to capture by the time they'd arrived.

As if that hadn't been bad enough, there had been reports that a new healer had shown up at the local hospital, and when they called the PRT to inform them of this and were delaying the cape through an interview the dispatcher had directed news about it to Assault and Battery, who were on the other side of the city.

By the time they reached the hospital the healer was long gone, apparently having displayed aggravation at being directed at the PRT. The hospital staff had not tried to hold him there, not knowing if he would be able to use his powers offensively, and not wanting to provoke him. Assault and Battery had moved quickly but not quickly enough, and the dispatcher in question was facing a number of questions like why had he not contacted someone else who would have been able to get there faster.

As if that wasn't enough of a headache, the reports that came two days after mentioned that Palanquin was seeing a few more VIP clients showing up to it, some of whom were known to be criminals, who had reportedly suffered serious injuries in the past. There was no confirmation yet but the thinkers in PRT employ were of the opinion that Faultline had somehow snatched up the stray healer and added them to her group.

Wonderful. The city had three healers, one of them a nazi, one of them an overworked girl running herself ragged, and the last one had turned mercenary. Then again the report from the hospital had suggested that he had volunteered to help, and had only requested a small amount of whatever payment hospital received to help cover his own costs of living, having mentioned in passing the healing left him more hungry than normal so he needed to eat more, to provide a reason.

If that was true, then the healer in question might possibly be someone that burnt calories out of their own body to fuel their healing power, while Panacea's ability seemed to utilize the reserves from the body she was tending to. It was a possibility, but she was somewhat doubtful of the claim. It could have been a mere excuse to try and squeeze out some money, if this person was a mercenary beneath in the first place.

There was also a theory that the mystery healer was not another new trigger, but the same one that Triumph had brought in briefly. The thinkers were not certain about this, having been able to squeeze out some information on this healer but not having managed to do so with the minor brute in question. Still, brute and striker powers could happen together, and both seemed to be focused on healing.

The fact that would mean there was a brute healer there who affected himself and others did make that theory somewhat suspect, but it had been listed on the file as a possibility.

Letting out a heavy huff, she shook her head in frustration. Capes were like big children, completely caught up in their powers and unthinking of the consequences of their actions at times. She had seen at Ellisburg how they ran like frightened children when reality came down on them like a wrecking ball, shattering those fantasies of power and being in control.

Considering the information laid out before her she had to wonder if it was possible to salvage this situation. Having a healer in their own employ would be a coup worth some effort. While the healer had decided to work with Faultline so far, there were no actual crimes to their name yet, meaning they could perhaps still be brought in.

It might require some negotiating, but she would rather have a healer even as a rogue who was willing to offer their services to the PRT rather than in service of the criminal underworld. Panacea was helpful, but dealing with Carol Dallon was a headache each time she was called upon. Having additional options would be a welcome possibility, as it would weaken Carol's own position as the guardian of the sole healer available to PRT ENE at the time.

Skidmark

It had been one fucking horror of a week. The Empire had been sniffing around Merchant turf where their new shipment of produce had come in, and there was no way in hell Skidmark was going to let that shit fly. He had gathered up some boys to round up some of the usual crowd to keep watch and gun down the Empire scouts to teach them not to mess with him, and the last year had ended up with tension.

Empire had in turn decided to run an attack at a nearby neighborhood with mainly black residents, spreading terror and attacking an area supposedly under Merchant protection. Provoking them again. So Skidmark had told Squealer they needed extra wheels for a hardass reminder to teach Empire not to mess with the best that the Archer's Bridge Merchants had at their disposal.

Only for those cock-wrangling jizz-soaked coke-sniffers to mess up the whole thing and break up most of Squealer's new cars banging into things and seeming to have forgotten how to drive, and getting Hookwolf to attack them had just made the whole mess even worse.

Fucking horrible time that had been too. There had been a brief bit of curiosity when one of their clients had shown up to tell them about a guy who sounded like a useful addition, but someone who had to be snatched up fast before those ass-sniffing Empire assholes would snatch him up, what with the guy having obviously been white. Despite only wearing a simple mask for a costume, the guy had managed to slip away however, and the motels that had been mentioned had turned out squat.

He hadn't wanted to just send boys to kick in doors, instead, he had a couple of trusted lieutenants to ask some questions while offering small bribes to the motel keepers, mentioning they were bounty hunters in the lookout for a fugitive they suspected to be in the area. The guys running the places had sung like canaries, but the few white guys they'd spied leaving those rooms later were just a couple of Johns playing with whores, and didn't seem to match.

They had caught up the one who seemed closest to what they were looking for, but a brief interrogation later the guy had been hit with an experimental little blend of drugs and tossed out without his wallet and a couple of bruises, not too badly roughed up as he hadn't been who they'd looked for.

"Done!" Squealer shouted loudly all of a sudden catching his attention, before a grin spread on his face.

Their battletruck now boasted a front mounted cannon, a couple of turrets on the top with guns strapped in place, and a few proper firing slots in the sides. Taking a few men in the back and in the turrets it could turn into a moving nightmare if they hit the Empire with it.

"Fucking finally! You put up one monster of a truck, that one's gonna tear the empire bitches a new one for sure! Got a fucking battle boner already!" Skidmark grinned wide as Squealer laughed.

"Are we going to attack right away?" She asked while wiping off a few oil stains on her hands, though ignoring the rest over her figure, it could wait for a shower later anyway. She just needed her hands clean if she was to put anything down on paper about this thing for later improvements.

"Nah babe, we need to wait another day or so. They got one big fight coming up and I'm planning on crashing it and delivering Hookwolf and his group of cock-suckers one big surprise. Speaking of which, how about the battle-bus?"

"Sorry Skid, it's a no go. We don't got enough armor around and the thing's gonna be a slow enough to make a very tempting target until it gets going. The ramming blade is good to go and the hydraulic pistons will make it punch like a king, so it ought to make holes in any walls but driving it in, the boys inside would get perforated without armor to the sides." She shook her head while Skidmark snorted.

"Just have some of the junkies get us scrap to use for armor for now, the boys inside will be doped up clients rather than good old boys for the attack, they'll make a hole and fuck it up, if they get fucked doing it, shit, that's just the way it splatters." He rolled his eyes unconcerned.

Coil

Thomas Calvert was dressed in his costume and resting inside of his base, while nursing a mother of all headaches. He had been keeping tracks on the new arrival ever since his peculiar effect on his personal timelines had caught him off guard, and he had been grateful that he had done so.

The young man appeared capable of not only shapeshifting, but rendering others unconscious at a short distance, as well as healing. Hiring Circus to keep track of him had paid off, and Circus wasn't someone who was easily fooled by simple change in appearance, not when their mannerisms did not change to match.

An attempt to identify the man had not provided any results however, and he was still not sure if the man's usual face was his real one, or just another mask. Getting to know that would require more effort.

It had been a small surprise when one of his pets had been at the same place that the young man in question had visited, and after hearing Circus' report he was debating whether or not bring her in to interrogate her about what she had learned about him, or if she had encountered the same kind of a headache that he had.

Confident that he would be able to capture him by attacking in numbers, he had split the timelines and ordered an attack once the man had left the shopping district area in one, while using a safe timeline where they cut their observation short and retreated as a backup.

What had awaited was beyond his expectations. The men in the van were covered up in case it was a biological agent he used, given the fact his apparent knock out power could be some form of biological agents spread rapidly at a close by target area. They had been suited up to counter any biological or chemical attacks.

Except they had not been prepared to handle the man spreading his fingers and pressing his thumbs together in a fanned out gesture, suddenly causing a stream of what seemed to be napalm rushing out of his hands, covering the team and resulting in his channel turning into a mess of screams of agony. The gunshots fired at the man had hit and he had gone down, only for a shimmering shield to appear before him before the men realized he was not out cold.

Circus had been told to stay back and observe, and had reported to him that the two men who had not worn the suits had been hit next, while the guys in the suits were struggling to put out the fire. The guy had just coldly turned towards them and turned up the heat again, burning them and the suits and equipment before Coil had been forced to drop the timeline because of the massive headache it had been causing him.

Half a dozen skilled mercenaries dead, two more burnt beyond recognition, by a power that the man had not displayed earlier. Whatever the hell he was, the man had more powers up his ass than Coil had expected. If he was a grab bag then his powers made no sense at all, he couldn't find a single unifying theme, and he'd expect there to have been others involved as well, and there had been no evidence of such so far.

It was troublesome enough that he would have to wait and observe a little longer. Thankfully the man had been courteous enough to hole up in a place he could keep an eye on, at Palanquin. Perhaps he should contract Faultline to a job out of the city later, and move in on the man when he stepped out the next time around.

The fact Faultline had been making inquiries about people in need of a healing and willing to pay for it showed that she was likely making a profit off of him, so offering to just pay for her to set him up would probably not work. She was too proud and stuck to a code that was rubbish in Coil's eyes, even if he could respect her for holding onto it. Still, it made her somewhat predictable, and foolish.

He would have to seriously consider things before proceeding. The man would have to enter his employ at some point, or be eradicated from the board. He was a disturbing element that had no place in the plans that Coil had in mind, unless he could be tamed and made obedient. Thankfully, his number one had already began to prepare a drug regiment that ought to help with that, though getting a mixture that would not cause serious damage but would result in an addiction that could not be easily overcome would take some time still to perfect.

Tattletale

Sitting before her laptop and browsing on PHO at the time Lisa was trying to put together the clues she had, and the ones she could gather from a little while browsing. The man she and Brian had noticed earlier was some sort of a blank. She could observe him without having her power gathering up a number of details that would be both helpful and migraine inducing, but in turn it also meant she was on her own gathering the information she wanted now.

Using the backdoors to the PRT database, she soon had a report of a shooting and the possible trigger event, followed by a power testing that was supposed to be in secure files but opened up easily enough. A note on the file suggested there was more but that part was not available to her, frustratingly enough.

It had to be on paper file, or possibly behind one of the upgraded systems Dragon had in place. Coil would likely get access to it, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to mention this newcomer to Coil, not unless the man asked her first.

The reason for this was simple. If his power was capable of no-sell to thinkers, then it might be something that Coil too would have trouble plotting around, which would make the man somewhat more vulnerable. She was still angry about her gun-point recruitment, and the fact that Coil's smug person seemed to scream to her that he had used his power to know things that he should not know and the fact was that it disturbed her at a rather deep level.

Brian was curious about the fact there was someone walking around who stumped her power, and when they had returned to their hideout she had to warn him not to tell Alec a word about it. The last thing she wanted was for him to start taunting her about it. Not when she prided herself on being able to root out everyone' s secrets and turn them against them.

Not having any answers made her want to know more, but the information she gathered wasn't much. She did note that he had retreated towards the Palanquin's direction towards the end, which made sense. If he had powers, then he probably wanted to seek a group to work with, and he did not seem too keen on PRT or any of the other gangs.

That was before her phone began to ring, making her quickly pick it up. Seeing it was from the boss she answered with some reluctance, but too curious to ignore it.

"Tats here, what's up?" She answered with a bit of fake cheerfulness, since she knew he disliked it.

"..."

"You want us to what?" She blinked, looking at the computer screen showing the latest PHO article, before narrowing her eyes.

"..."

"I don't think I can convince the others to do that, boss."

"..."

"HOW much?" She asked in surprise, wanting to confirm she wasn't hearing him wrong. If he was serious, then holy crap it just might be worth it.

"..."

"Right, um, I need to plan that out, a couple of days at most, but are you sure boss? I mean that is going to send out all sorts of red flags all over if we do this and I thought you wanted us to keep it quiet for most part." She was more than a little befuddled by these latest orders, but given the price he'd pay, she considered it.

"..."

"Brian might need additional convincement." She decided to press on that part. She had her doubts about Coil holding on to his end of the bargain, but it would give her a powerful chip in getting Brian to agree to this if the boss was at least willing to give it a try.

"..."

"Okay, a couple of days to make it happen, a couple of days to plan, perhaps it is best to prepare to have this happen on the 9th if everything goes well until that point?"

"..."

"Nice talking to you too, boss." Her sarcastic reply went unheard of as Coil had already hung up on her after his answer, leaving Tattletale to consider the latest bit of news. It was going to be a mess, either way. Getting Brian to agree might mean pushing for his sister's liberation from the awful parents the two had, but whether or not Coil would pull the strings to make it happen remained to be seen. If he did, it would come with a hook that kept Brian present, like needing continued reports from Brian's "employee" to confirm he was gainfully employed and able to provide for himself and his sister at the very least.

Still, if it would secure Brian's loyalty it was worth doing.

Quietly her thoughts moved onto the question of how could she take the best advantage of the current circumstances without adding too much undue risk on her own part.

Author's Note: Last update for this week, wanted to squeeze this part out. I may or may not post 1 additional chapter before the Hunters begin to arrive, but once Novice changes to Apprentice, the Hunters delay will be over and the games will truly begin.

In response to an earlier comment, I like the concept because of the stated reasons and have used some variants of it a few times in different ideas of a story to write, but ended up deciding to put it to a test with the hunter concept, as well as a few limitations that have been in effect.

In response to the point about the main character's choices and the stupidity behind them, suffice to say that the main character is not making smart decisions but there's also limitations and obscured memories present until the time the Hunters arrive. I'll say this much though, without the ROB and a few other things, he would not have picked those choices.

Lastly, on the matter of cantrips? I had some thoughts of using them, particularly since some of the cantrips are quite useful in small ways that don't require bigger spells at all, but the main character was ignoring them and going for the stronger power of leveled spells instead when starting, rushing through without bothering to look around more carefully. It was only when he found himself needing a cleaning spell that cantrips and orisons came to mind for him.

The title of the dumbest MC in Worm is not one I can argue about though, at least his choices so far. He'll have to improve fast once the hunters arrive, or the game won't last too long, that much is clear.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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FrozenTome

Aug 9, 2019

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FrozenTome

Aug 12, 2019

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#60

Novice 1.10

January 7th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

It was a late Friday afternoon, and Thomas was feeling bored. He had been stuck indoors for most of the week, seeing an average of 3 clients a day, though yesterday he only had 1 person to heal, while today he had in turn had four show up, three of them in a group and one arriving separately.

Given the way his personal funds had grown, he had managed to get his hands on a secure account thanks to Faultline knowing who to contact, arranging an account to be prepared for him by Numberman. While the man might be Cauldron member, they were good at their 'job' and this was hardly a noticeable contact for him.

So he had a seemingly normal account with a little over 10k in money in it, a new wallet with a sum of $200 carried along if he went shopping and wanted to pay in cash for some small purchases, and a separate secure account card that was locked up in his room for any larger acquisitions he might eventually choose to make.

For now, that secure account was simply storing some funds, others being put in place under a false identity, also acquired through Faultline's contacts, that meant a part of his money was put to work trying to made additional profits. He had some hopes in that, but since he wasn't investing it himself he had a feeling it might not pay off in the end. The sum he'd diverted to that was a quarter of his earnings, sizable sum right now, but not enough to bankrupt him if it did not come out right.

Letting out a sigh he glanced down at the treadmill he had been jogging on, touching the screen before him to set it to ending the run at a slower pace. His legs ached lightly, but he had been running more than he expected, and feeling a bit better for it. His physical looks had not really changed, but he felt he had pushed his body a bit, and felt small improvements over the week from the continued exercise.

He had not been too eager to do so at first, but playing games or reading books all day did not seem interesting enough, and surprisingly enough the run had actually helped him clear his head somewhat. The way his body had changed seemed to make such practice a little easier, and the benefit of it might come in handy sometime.

Stepping off the treadmill after the pace had slowed down to near crawl and soon stopping entirely, Thomas headed off to take a shower and change. He had not been told of any clients for that particular day yet, but he expected there might be one or two.

The Merchants and the E88 had been clashing all over the city, and, while ABB had largely stayed out of it there had been talk about Oni Lee sightings. Apparently ABB had been happy to let the others fight each others for most part though so he did not know what to really expect from them.

There had actually been a few customers that did catch his attention though. A group of three boys who had been working as goons for Uber and Leet, got hurt on the job, and showed up to get patched up afterwards. Their injuries had been relatively minor so they payment for it had been rather small too, but Faultline had accepted it since it had been a slow day, they were an easy job to pull off, and she also managed to squeeze out a bit of information out of the boys as well from what he had overheard.

The two video game villains were more amusing than actively dangerous in his opinion at that time, but the video they'd uploaded of their latest antics had shown off Glory Girl covered in ooze that made her furious and add to her unofficial 'collateral damage barbie' title.

Honestly, he had been surprised to learn that apparently that weird little squids and ink shooter guns videogame had actually been published on Earth Bet, and ahead of schedule as well if he remembered correctly. He hadn't paid it much attention, it was a console game as far as he knew, and he'd been part of the PC gamer crowd. Not that he was a serious gamer, more a casual gamer for the fun of it and to relax on the weekend.

Still, he had recognized it and seeing Glory Girl covered in the black ink 'ooze' had definitely got him laughing. Though her decision to slap an unpowered thug in a way that would have possibly sent him to a hospital if not for the padded outfits they wore had sparked some conflict on the PHO as well.

Stepping out of the shower and getting dressed, he had headed over to a shared lounge and intending to visit the kitchen briefly, when he ran into Gregor in the hallway.

"Hey, just to let you know, Faultline got a job lined up for us starting tomorrow. We'll be gone for at least four days, possibly five."

That bit of news made Tom frown slightly but he nodded his head still. Faultline had probably received a job offer with more lucrative terms to it than making money watching over him. He couldn't really fault her for that. Unfortunately it also meant that it would be a good time for anyone else to try and snatch him up.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know. I guess the jobs are on hold until you are all back?" Gregor's nod made him let out a sigh and then smile. "Well I guess I'll try and find something else to amuse me in the meanwhile."

Gregor smiled briefly but turned to head away. Despite his initial awkwardness around the group, he considered Gregor and Newter to fun people to be around. Faultline had seemed to ease up a bit on him after several days without real issues, but he got the feeling he was still firmly in the client category, not a friend. He could respect that, though he did wish she'd relax around him like she seemed to do when it was just her crew.

Knocking on the door to Faultline's office, Thomas waited a moment before hearing her speak up. 'Come in' was said in a tone of a command rather than an invite, making him wince slightly but open the door and proceed.

Seeing her seated behind a desk, a folder closed on the table, and wearing gloves and a mask, it was apparent she had been relaxing without the outfit before his knock given the short pause before she had called for him to enter. He was pretty sure the others didn't knock, or had some particular knock. He hadn't tried opening the door before knocking but he was also rather sure it was locked and only opened after she gave permission, given it had a card reader by it on the outside and she had one hand under the table when he entered.

"I heard from Gregor you are all heading out tomorrow. I wanted to say I finished the first set of 'scrolls' already, and was meaning to talk about them later. Seeing as you are going to be gone though, I figured I'd hand them over, in case you run into any trouble." His voice serious, he looked at her and watched her for a moment just staring back at him.

"I thought you said you were not sure if others would be able to use these though?" She picked up the bundle of scrolls, looking them over curiously. Fine white paper bound with a red string, containing a few words written in plain English at the top, followed by a number of symbols that she likely had no real idea how to interpret.

He had been surprised when he got to work writing them, but the symbols seemed to flow as if by instinct as he worked. It took him nearly an hour to finish even a single scroll, and a feeling of 'emptiness', actually consuming one of his charges entirely the first time he'd done it.

The charge had returned the next day, so he had dared to try with two more, and finally today he'd written three earlier in the morning. The charges came back, but the day he created something the said charge was gone until the end of the day. Which meant he could make them, but any 'mass production' was impossible.

"I believe I managed to come up with a workable solution with a bit of trying. You must speak the short string of command words while holding the scroll, preferably held open but grasped in one hand even rolled up should work. The other hand will act as a channel to the power in question." Thomas explained this seriously while standing before her, watching her look through the six scrolls quietly.

He had prepared three arcane and three divine spells for a test, wanting to know if they'd work for others. His choices had been Entangle, Comprehend Languages and Cure Light Wounds for the Divine spells, and Feather Fall, Disguise Self and Mage Armor for the Arcane. Of course, he had not named them so in English, merely listed a few choice keywords that the scroll was writ to activate on.

Mage Armor would protect someone, Feather Fall was likely not going to get used but was an interesting option if one of them did have to jump off a roof at some point, and Disguise Self was a useful short term 'stranger' power, even if a weak glamour.

Comprehend languages could be useful if their foe spoke in a language they didn't know and they got access to their communications preferring to listen in. Cure light wounds was a rather simple choice, it could help out in emergency to keep someone alive at least, and the last one, a druid spell actually, would see the ground itself rise up to grasp those targeted in roots growing swiftly in a way that would likely give a scare to any would be pursuers.

Examining them for a while, Faultline lowered the scrolls down on the table, eyes narrowed behind the mask.

"Just who, and what exactly are you? You walk in and mention Cauldron which is a boogeyman on the net, a group that we are not exactly prepared to investigate yet ourselves, not at just your word that they're involved. I took you in as you are a curiosity, and your ability is useful enough as well. The healing you can provide brings not only money but favors and goodwill, so I have tolerated the mystery." She paused at this point.

"However, you are also a black hole when it comes to thinker information, either they notice you and suffer for it, or they bypass you as someone who doesn't really ping their radar, so to speak. Now, after a week here, you tell me that you are some sort of a mix of weird tinker and trump?" She lifted one of the scrolls.

"I am not sure if this is some Dumbo effect your power calls for, but if these are real, then that means your power is not only strange, but versatile enough to bring a lot of trouble to our doorstep. I will take these, and we'll see if they work, but when we come back I expect answers, the whole story, and a long talk about sharing relevant details." The way she was looking at him Thomas briefly wondered if he should have just kept quiet and not revealed anything at all. He had grown somewhat attached to the crowd, and had felt they weren't quite as bad as many of the gangs in the city.

Right at that moment however he was pretty sure Faultline had grown very suspicious of him, his motives, and his intentions towards them. He had sought them out after all, and if his powers were versatile enough to offer him options like the scrolls, she might begin to doubt he 'needed' protection.

Which was actually a matter he wasn't quite sure about. He was vulnerable right now, before he could gather more power for himself, but that vulnerability came with a timer, and his practice was pushing him forward, little by little. It was not as good as going out to the field and fighting, or as good as actually healing someone, but it did provide some gains to his power's growth as well as his physical growth.

Unfortunately he had not gained a jump like he had after his trip outside, and he had a feeling he would need to get more involved in things if he wanted to progress with any real speed when it came to growing in power. The only good way to build up strength was testing his limits against foes that were well suited for his current power level. Which would mean seeking out and taking down mooks.

He leaned more towards rogue than a hero, and more towards a hero than a villain, but he also liked to consider himself a pragmatic guy. If he was pressed against the wall and given the option to either become honorary Asian or die in a fire, he'd take Lung's offer and look for a chance to slip away later. It wouldn't do any good for his self-esteem to work for the man, but he'd rather look for a way out of the trap than make some stupid grand gesture and end up a human matchstick.

Skidmark and his gang though? He'd probably fight tooth and nail to avoid that. He was pretty sure that way would end up hooked on drugs by force, and he was not convinced his gamer body was completely immune to that. He did not want to find out the hard way. Alcohol had its effect on him after all, no real hangovers but he could get buzzed. He hadn't tried to drink beyond that to a point he'd pass out at any point, but he wasn't planning to try anything stronger than alcohol either.

"Understood?" Faultline finished a talk in front of him, making him wince and nod. "Good. Now get back to your room." She waved him off, and he turned to go.

He had listened to her but after the initial words the rest of it was more or less the same, a scolding to remember that he was now a known figure at the Palanquin, someone who had healed a number of people who's tales of that would likely have got out to a number of interested ears.

Grumbling slightly to himself he retreated to the room he had been given, and sat down before the screen, checking the channels for anything that would let him relax for a bit before he'd think about what to expect in the coming days. He might have to consider leaving when Faultline and her group were gone, and slip back under a disguise spell. At least now he had money and a false identity to work with.

Resting back on his throne the masked figure grasped the chin of said mask, rubbing along it with a gauntleted hand while staring at the trio gathered before him. The fluttering light of the torches on the wall scones did not give much light, but he could still see the tension present in the room, only made stronger as they had began to eye one another after making their choices.

He doubted that any of them would choose to work together. It was possible, but he did not find it a likely choice from any of them, not when they had already exhibited a touch of perfectly normal suspicion. They had been picked to find and kill someone, and the one who scored the kill would win the hunting game. Any alliances that could be made would come at a very real risk of betrayal, and failure would have unpleasant consequences, even if they were returned home eventually.

"In the moments that have passed for you, a week's time has passed for the one sent off first. You will enter the world in the dawn of the eight day, and with your arrival, the ten year period begins. While you may find that to be excessive amount of time right now, the time you need to complete the hunt depends on your own skills as well as those of your quarry. Besides, if you rush in just remember that while it is a chance for a quick triumph, it is also a chance for a very unpleasant stay if you happen to die trying."

Author's Note: And so ends the Novice section. Coming up later this week, Apprentice 2.1.[/hr][/hr][/hr]

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FrozenTome

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Apprentice 2.1

"You can run, you can hide, but in the end, the wild hunt will come for you. You must grow in power, you must steel your will, and you must fight back. You will start early, but I will seal your memories of the deal until the dawn it begins, and in that morning's light you will remember the most important part. Do you honestly believe you will be smart enough to make smart decisions in your limited time, not knowing your time is growing short, that your life will be in danger very shortly?"

Thomas awoke with a start, trembling and panting, his body sweaty. The memories had began to rush in. The limitations on his mind snapping, except for the one he had been bound by. He was to remain in Brockton Bay, with enough 'give' in the leash to allow him to leave for up to a day, but other than that he was locked in to a single place.

He wanted to curse himself for wasting time, but knew there was little use in doing that. He had been little more than a pruned alpha fork, a splinter of his original mind that had been partially lobotomized by the bindings on his mind, and the sealed memories, while the original mind rested within waiting for its time. The merging of the memories from that forked memory had him shake his head in frustration and grit his teeth together.

'God damn it all, fucking hell, I expected myself to be paranoid and practice, but what is it with this slow and inefficient route I've been taking? As I am right now I am going to end up dead before the first day of the hunt. Should have known that taking the devil's deal would result in surprises'. He tossed the sheets aside and hurried off to the shower.

At least the mentally pruned copy of him that had lived out these early days for him based on limited information and understanding had been trying, and managed to do a few things right. He had enough money on a secure account to get by if he had to vanish for a while, and even if he did not personally think revealing as much to Faultline as he had done was a smart move, he could consider Gregor the Snail and Newter to be at least friendly towards him after all that.

Feeling the water flow over his figure he focused on cleaning himself up quickly, while going down a checklist in his mind. He would need to leave Palanquin, he would need to change to another appearance, he would need to secure himself another place to stay at. He would need to fight and train himself. He would have to secure power and prepare himself for a long war.

Facing the foes head on with no intel was a suicidal position, especially one against many. With any luck the enemies would be acting solo, rather than as a unified front, and he would have a chance to locate a chink in their armor to take advantage of.

Thinking about it, what other disadvantages was he working under beyond the enemies after him and his geas to stay in the city? The thought lead him to a quick answer, and made him grimace as he realized at least part of his behavior had been intentionally messed around with.

Wanted by PRT ENE, the Merchants, and Coil. He had picked three factions to be on the lookout for him, because he considered PRT ENE to be relatively safe one to choose to have interest in him, Coil because he genuinely wanted to kill the bastard anyway while he was in Earth Bet, and the Merchants because between the three gangs he'd rather deal with them than the Empire 88 or the Azn Bad Boys.

Heading out of the shower to get dressed, he quickly gathered up his new belongings in somewhat of a hurry. Several changes of clothes, a laptop in its bag with the charger and all the other additions like headphones, USB mouse et cetera, and certainly his wallet and 'Medic' costume as well.

He had a gamer power and he had not explored it further. True, it prevented his abilities from degrading over time or forgetting any of his skills learned, but it went beyond that. Not needing to eat or drink, he could potentially hide in isolation after some encounters without supplies if needed, without ill effects.

What he had forgotten was the ability to knock down enemies for loot. He had made a few bucks off the regular street thugs, but the way it was made, he had the feeling that fighting some opponents would provide additional loot beyond what he might be taking off their person, potentially things that were literally out of this world. Out of context problems for any foes coming after him.

The problem with that was it would be a random chance, and pure speculation right now. Still, he had made a few very important choices when preparing himself for a ten year stay that meant that his problem would be dealing with the hunters, rather than dealing with the Apocalypse.

The beauty of for Want of a Nail had been that a world-changing event could be paid for in power, and set in motion all without him having to move a single finger. A flick in the right direction, and the end-game would be different.

Still, for the rest of the world nothing seemed to have changed. Scion flew around, and Endbringers were pushing the world closer and closer towards the edge.

Feeling ready to leave, he glanced at the two bags he had. One for clothes and basic personal hygiene products, including an electric razor he had ended up not needing but had acquired prior to knowing that. The other holding the laptop he had acquired and already customized to his liking.

Considering it briefly, he left the laptop behind, along with the phone Faultline had acquired for him. Either one of them could be traced, he was paranoid enough to believe Faultline would have both prepared for him with the intent to keep watch over him. He did take a moment to write down the numbers to the 'door buzzer' as well as Faultline's personal line.

A short burst of magic had him looking like a somewhat older man in his late thirties, dressed well and his bag resembling a suitcase. The smaller dimensions meant his glamour had to basically make part of the bag invisible, but also meant having to be careful to not bump someone with it and expose the glamour.

Making his way to the club's side and out of the front door, he left the place behind with a touch of reluctance. He had enjoyed those days somewhat, the Case 53s and Faultline were interesting people if understandable wary given their choice in profession and pursuit of information on certain topics.

He had avoided the back door because logically, whoever might be watching for him would be hoping to see him make a break for it through that door and expect to trail and catch him soon after. The club was mostly empty in the morning, with a few people present doing a small clean-up. He had passed them only getting a brief glance in passing, puzzled but not too alarmed.

Walking away he slipped through an alley and walked out of the other end looking like a young woman out shopping, the briefcase further changed to resembled a handbag. Careful to keep some distance to people, 'she' continued walking along.

Waking up in a bedroom that was both familiar and yet unfamiliar, Andrea felt a moment of dizzy confusion, before she was fully awake. Her first morning came with a rush of memories to sort through, and a few minutes of unpleasantness as the trembling through her body, which had changed into that of a little boy. It could have been enough to cause gender identity issues or even body dysmorphia if not for the mix of old memories soon easing up that moment of adjustment.

The memories from the body were serving as an anchor for Andrea, now Antonio Zucchero, as (s)he let out a few long breaths, inhaling deeply and breathing out, sorting through the confusion inducing mess of entangled memories in her mind.

Ten minutes after waking up, Antonio's mind was clear and ready to get started. The airplane incident that had displaced him had been public news, and Antonio had already been accepted to the Wards program, his mother's signature already on the paperwork involved.

Inside the male body the female mind had considered the limitation of fixing up the body to a state she would have preferred, but unfortunately the drawbacks were locked in place. She would have to grow up over time as normal, and until she went home she would be staying as a boy. So she would have to also accept thinking of herself as a boy, for the moment at least.

At least Antonio was cute as a button and charming, and with the power of fixing things and people he would be a well loved figure not only for the local PRT office but to the general public. All he would have to do to keep that adoration going when returning to her original world was to kill the first person to make an agreement with that being that had brought her up.

That would let her restore her sister, and return to her perfect life, which would become even better once she was back home.

Looking around 'his' room, Antonio paused on noticing a suitcase that seemed remarkably sturdy and locked with a combination lock. Thinking back, he moved over to look at the four number lock and adjusted the wheels till it was a familiar four digit number, hearing a click. Opening the case, Antonio was greeted by the sight of those five precious vials that he had acquired, left waiting for him at his room when he arrived, along with a note to keep them secret and to keep them safe. The well padded, reinforced case to carry them in seemed to be extra.

Antonio was expected to visit the PRT ENE offices next Monday, and meet with the other Wards around that time. That would be the real beginning for him, but in the meanwhile, he had a computer in his room and access to PHO and other sites that might give him some idea of what to be on the lookout for.

The skies over Rhode Island were greeted by an unexpected sight that morning, as several small meteors were falling from the sky above. Burnt up in the atmosphere, they still caused momentary panic in Jamestown that lay at the center of the rather tightly knit bombardment.

The small stones struck down with enough force to cause an explosion of broken concrete in the air where they struck down on the road, shattering windows and walls hitting into buildings, piercing through roofs and smashing through several floors on some buildings, and scaring the hell out of the local populace.

Fortunately it seemed the pieces that had made their way down seemed to not have the mass to cause more widespread devastation, but the meteor shower still served as a very unpleasant start for the day, and this was before a fireball from the sky landed in the middle of the devastation, bursting apart into a ring of flames scorching the close surroundings in a sixty feet wide circle, a lone figure standing up straight in the middle.

"Tremble Mortals, and DESPAIR! DOOM has come to this world!"

A nearby police officer looked at the figure at the middle of the flaming mess and enraged at his partner bleeding out badly bruised by the earlier meteor shower he was now convinced was because of this lunatic, he reached out and pulled his sidearm before starting to empty it to the madman standing in the middle of his burnt out stage.

The gunshots sent the figure stumbling back and collapsing, but before the cop could even let out a breath of relief it had ended so quickly, and hoping his partner would make it to the emergency room, there was a burst of flame as the body vanished, amidst the creepiest cold laughter he had heard in his life.

It was hammy as hell, but it was also chilling given the backdrop this madman had chosen.

Out of sight, in a small alleyway nearby, the shadows gathered and coagulated into physical form, allowing the robed, half-masked figure to appear. A grin rising on their face, as they coldly chuckled at the sight of their first appearance, but certainly not the last.

Legion had arrived, and the first test had been a success. Convincing their 'benefactor' to send him in the game with style, they had landed somewhat away from Brockton Bay rather than in the city, in the middle of devastation they had taken in as part of their own arrival, and smirking slightly while considering how the news would react to this.

Unfortunately the arrival had already also inconvenienced Legion's departure from this point, because the small meteor shower had also specifically slammed down on the two bridges off the island, and rendered them in a sorry state. Crossing over might not be possible right away.

Inconvenient placement, but they had not shown their face yet, and Legion was certain they would manage, for they were many. Short snap of fingers saw Legion become two, then four, eight, sixteen. They were a gang and team all on their own, mind-linked and in agreement.

The Burning Legion would sweep through the nation, and the destruction of the Anathema would ensure their victory! The glory would be theirs, and this world would burn around them, fearing the name to the last dying breath.

Tattletale frowned silently while observing the figure walking down the street ahead of her. While appearing to be suitably paranoid, the man who had caused her power to disregard them as uninteresting had a lot to learn about subtlety and making a proper escape.

It had not been too difficult to spot the figure leaving through the front, and when her power responded with a few lines of observation but did not go any further than that she was convinced it was the man in question. They were improving, their ability to lie to her power had improved to seem less suspicions on a quick glance, but the limited information they provided to mask the truth was still insufficient when she knew the extent her power provided her with even unnecessary answers.

The change into a feminine form in the alley had caught her off guard, before her power's readings had changed to match, now indicating the figure appeared fully female. Yet there had been a blip on that false information. The bag had changed size, but not weight, the strain on the arm was unchanged, and the figure still avoided letting anyone too close to that side.

While the mystery cape could change appearance, it appeared to be some sort of illusionary power, not true changer rating. Stranger power to conceal their true appearance. She had to admit it could come in handy.

"We need to get on the move Bitch, we'll follow target on the rooftops." No need to contact Coil yet. The boss was paying to learn more, and capture if possible, but trying to convince them if given the chance.

She had not got much off of Coil earlier, but she was reasonably certain the only reason he would pay as much as he had offered and even come through with helping Brian get a lawyer start arguing the case of transferring the custody of his sister Aisha to Brian from their strung out, doped up mother, was that this cape had already somehow messed up with some of Coil's plans and was a potential spoke in the wheels or an asset to be acquisitioned, through means fair or foul whichever worked best.

"Man, no sense of style at all, I was sure he'd be coming out of the back door wearing a mask and all," Alec muttered annoyed at having lost the bet. He thought it to be too blatantly stupid to walk right out of the front door to have given any credit to Tattletale's opinion they would be waltzing out of the place there because they thought it would draw less attention to them.

Maybe if they had waited until the late evening when the club had clients around and looked like just another party-going rich brat already drunk and heading off hailing a cab for themselves it would have worked out better, but leaving this early, they had a long way to go to outsmart Lisa.

Author's Note: So it has began. All 3 Hunters have arrived, though only two were given a short introduction so far. Additionally, the main character is now unshackled from most of the mental limitations and bindings put in place. They have already acquired the Wanted Drawback's share of attention from certain parties, and are aware of the hunters and the situation they are in, now.

None of the hunters know what the first arrival looks like or what powers they gained, but they are aware of the fact they are bound in place in Brockton Bay. They do not know each other's choices for certain either, so they will be on the lookout for those who stick out, who arrived only recently.

The mention of forking and mental pruning are terms the main character borrowed from their experience with role-playing games, in this case, the Eclipse Phase futuristic survival horror game. They are relating their experience to what they remember from that game, referring to having a copy of their mind that has been altered and in some ways diminished to act as they would, but in lesser capacity, under instructions they have been left with. Finding it to be themselves but yet different, an unpleasant little headache and part of a side bet he'd be fine with a week's head start which the ROB made them regret by proving they were not clever enough to make proper use of it, for most part.

Given it still gave them one week head start and got their hands on some money, the main character is still going to consider it to have provided some benefits even if the trouble it caused him makes him wonder if the ROB messed around with his mind copy more than he had anticipated to set things up for him.

Nevertheless, the first part of Apprentice is up, and next will be posted later this week.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Aug 15, 2019

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Apprentice 2.2

Thomas knew that now that the hunters had arrived, he would likely have very little time before they would try and locate him. His abilities were ones that would grow with practice, but combat was the best teacher and that was something he had been too careful about so far. He did not imagine it would be a good idea to mess with Lung, but taking down some gangers to increase his abilities would

Of the three gangs in city, he was likely to be in conflict with Merchants most often. He disliked drug pushers and the bit about getting girls hooked up and then on the street made him particularly angry. He disliked ABB's activities in the same manner as well, he doubted E88 avoided drugs or other illegal businesses but their dog fighting rings seemed to be more prominent figure than those other things.

None of the gangs were by any means good, but given the choice, he figured he'd rather hit Merchants, then ABB, and go after the E88 last. At some level, it felt wrong he did not put the Empire's place on the list higher, they were Nazis after all, but he preferred to target the other first, at least for now.

Walking along he paid little attention the glamour he had put in place. Alter self would open safer options to actually change, rather than hide in an illusionary cocoon distorting vision and camera perception alike, right now bumping into someone would reveal a deception all too easily. Using a female form to go with the current deception was a possibly stupid move, as he doubted his voice would fool anyone, but it was not as if he intended to talk to anyone right now.

He reached his destination soon enough, a large bus station with a bus headed off towards Boston leaving soon. Heading on in, he slipped amidst the many people and felt a little better. Despite having to avoid running into anyone, he had made the job of tracking him more difficult for anyone meant to follow him.

Stepping aside to a bathroom, he quickly changed his appearance under the disguise self once more, while making himself appear as if he had no bag with him at all. A risk, given he still had to grasp it tight in his grip and it could be felt if he did run into anyone, and now nobody would see there was something to dodge at his side.

Still, leaving the bathroom so changed he proceeded to slip away to another section of the bus station, and at an empty area where nobody else was in sight he shifted back to the shape of the blonde man in a suit, holding a suitcase in one hand, and proceeded to head on off to take a bus. Just a ticket on a bus running to another section of the city, not one to Boston that someone tracking him might hopefully mistake his intent to be.

Soon enough he was seated in a bus resting back while the bus he had got on left the bus station behind, the suitcase on his lap. Even as the bus drove away he felt a moment of suspicion on his mind if someone was still after him, but it faded soon enough. Paranoid or not, he had a feeling he was unobserved by any of the more serious parties for the time being.

Regardless, he had to actually start acting like he had an actual shard in him, and go out looking for conflict. Making a few Merchants suffer so he could grow in power felt like a good way to get started, but attacking the Merchants was a bit of a cliche. Mainly because it seemed like the best option in a way. Attacking ABB meant drawing Lung's attention, attacking Empire meant having several angry capes after the offender.

Then again, he might be able to use his abilities to even take a bit of time to hit each in turn. He had no real affection towards any of those parties, but hitting them all would stir up trouble, especially as Merchants and the Empire had already been up in arms with one another. Drawing the ABB into the mess might escalate to full on gang warfare on the streets, which would hurt innocent civilians all too easily.

No, best to make sure that the ones who got hurt were Merchants.

Steven awoke suddenly, looking around in the calm room he was in.

He checked his body mentally, ... no he wasn't Steven anymore that's for sure. That had not been a dream.

As unpleasant as it was to be considered a villain by something akin to a god, it was an opinion that would be difficult to simply shrug off. Yes, he had always admitted to not being a saint. Of course, only a dumbass would try to do good without searching his own profit, but he had nearly never done anything bad just for the sake of it !

Ok, the thrill of cheating on his many girlfriends was too much to resist, and THIS he admitted, was kind of bad. Not evil mind you, but generally considered bad. But in his opinion the bitches were asking for it.

Come on, all men he met knew in five minutes that he was the kind of guy who would lie and cheat to get as many girls as he could. It was obvious to anyone ... anyone with a brain at least.

But those women ? No apparently they believed him when he was swearing that 'Yes, for you it's different. I'm feeling like a totally new man !'

Come on ! He was thinking that they were just feeling a bit guilty and searching for an excuse to say yes, but maybe ... maybe not ?

Was this the reason he was now judge by some deity and falling on the bad side of the balance ? Or was it something else ?

He sighed. Introspection had never been his forte. He would need to find and befriend a good dork and get some answers. It would be good to have some minions.

Speaking of minions he checked around. Perfect, there were already some of them, bound to the stone he had brought with him.

He called them, and took the stone in hand, time to 'tinker' and create himself some more of them, he had the whole night in front of him, he would be very tired in the morning and wouldn't that be perfect ?

Steven smiled, very pleased by himself, as usual.

He needed to work on that, too, try to not think himself as Steven anymore. He could do acting, he had lie so many times before ...

Simurgh had been floating along quietly and reviewing both the past events from earlier that day, and the paths ahead. The options that this interference had opened were remarkable. She and her brethren were still bound, but the interference meant that those restrictions and chains were slackened, and that opened up some options.

She was well aware that drawing too much attention to these changes too soon would actually hinder her efforts. Allowing some time to pass would mean the changes would propagate, and their influence would see previously locked options become viable. A few of them possibilities were disastrous, others were highly desirable but difficult to arrange and the chaotic element thrown into the mix meant her error margin had grown slightly. It was a minimal one on short term, but in the long term plans that error could become compounding and result in serious setbacks.

For now, Canberra would remain on the top of her list of targets, but she should direct either Leviathan or Behemoth to direct their next rampage towards the area where the new elements remained. Depending on the end results of that experiment, she could deduce the optimal path.

It was also possible that she could achieve one or two secondary objectives during the Canberra event, but that would require careful planning on her part. Even with the chaotic events nudging things along in ways she was already mapping out due to them not being entirely hidden from her sight at least, she was not completely certain she could make use of those ripples in time to achieve one of the higher level objectives so soon.

It would still allow her to set up several tertiary objectives in place and initiate plans that would benefit her on the long run. The matter on that was settled, it was the specifics that were in need of further review and consideration.

Lisa wanted to curse out loud, but held her tongue. The damn son of a bitch slipped away. Alec had been told to watch him, and Lisa had moved in as well, but by the time Alec had got inside the bus station their target had already managed to get too far ahead, and even looking for someone with a bag had not come up with any answers. She had considered looking at others as well, but having to do sweeps around the area meant her ability was not able to spot enough difference to be sure.

The hurry and the number of people had left them with no target to track, and while not in costume, they were drawing attention. Rachel's dogs might have helped, but bringing them in to track the smell would have been more trouble than it was worth.

Lisa was pretty certain their target had taken a bus out, rather than just walking out, but whether he had stayed in Brockton Bay or not was unfortunately not clear to her. The last she'd seen him she had got the feeling he might be running off to Boston, which would mean she had to contact Coil and someone would take a look at the arrivals, but if the guy dropped off along the way and took a trip back, as she expected, then he would walk back in town under another disguise and unless he made waves she would be left standing there looking stupid.

Lisa hated that. She had already began to think about the possibility of this powerful stranger effect helping the Undersiders if they could convince him to work with them. Young as they were, they were successful and the addition of a stranger would make them even more capable. Having him work for Coil and friendly with them would also potentially leave him in position to help take down Coil eventually.

Lisa was enjoying the cash for now, but given how she had been recruited she wanted to eventually either be free, or working for another boss that was easier to deal with than Coil. Yet whatever little plans she had in mind about this newcomer, having him vanish off like this put them all on halt for the time being.

At least part of her frustration lay in the fact that she was having no luck rooting out any useful information about him, and yet at the same time thinking about him never seemed to trigger her migraines. It was a small mercy, but one she was grateful for.

"So, what now?" Alec asked annoyed after they finished a look around and saw no signs of the person they hoped to catch.

"We should head back. I doubt he will stay away for long, but we are not going to track him down here without a dog to follow the scent, and I think they would not allow us to bring one in." Lisa smiled slightly but headed off with Alec, quietly wondering how Coil would react to the news their target had possibly done a runner or at least dropped off the radar for the immediate moment.

Escaping Jamestown had taken some effort, but Legion had attacked three more times in a short order around the town, his hands flaming and setting people and surroundings on fire momentarily, while laughing at them and taunting them to run.

He had been shot down twice already, but death was only a momentary solution. He came back, a little stronger, a little smarter. At least the one of him that got shot did. Apparently despite being clones, the gifts went to the clone that scored the kills, and recombining did not give him the total, making each clone advance individually.

Still, he had limited himself to just one active distraction right now, while he had joined the fleeing group running over a damaged bridge on foot at another spot without a mask on. Given that his 'Legion' self was unmasked through the rampage, and died with a mask still on, he had no real concern about his face possibly being recorded among the fleeing masses. A face in the crowd would go unnoticed by the sheep unless they had a good reason to go looking for him, and even then, he doubted they'd get far, possibly wondering if he was a tourist of some sort lost in the area.

Once he was out of the central area he used his powers in a different way, and a few honeyed words laced with a charming effect had a young woman about to leave in a car of her own offer to give him a ride like she had known him for years, treating him like a friend. They drove off, and chatted amiably for a while.

By the time the charm began to wear off he was far enough that there were no witnesses present when he grabbed onto her throat, and electrocuted her. The power at his fingertips was intoxicating, and he enjoyed watching her scream and try and wrench herself free, shocking her again another time and watching her go quiet. He had asked her to stop so he could pee at a spot by the road away from witnesses, so dumping her body onto bare soil a bit out of sight and then casting one more flame spell to burn her remains, he turned around and walked back to the car, the keys in hand and smirking.

In the meanwhile, the copy Legion had left behind had finally drawn the ire of Legend, and his refusal to surrender saw him vaporized by a blast by the Blaster of Blasters, only to vanish once more, this time without the fanfare. The copy would slip away from the area much the same he had, and they'd meet again later, or strike at different places at once.

It was only the beginning after all, and he was in touch with all parts of him easily enough, though he had decided to focus on just two for the immediate moment to be able to leave the area in an easier manner.

Before the end of the day, Jamestown Massacre would result in the newly dubbed 'Firestarter' to be labeled a crazed psycho, and put his name on the shortlist to issue a Kill Order against as soon as possible.

Author's Note: A splintered chapter in terms of content, next one will be focused fully on the main character.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

Last edited: Aug 24, 2019

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.3 New

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Aug 19, 2019

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#72

Apprentice 2.3

Beyond the boat graveyard lay an old section of area holding a number of old warehouses and other similar buildings. It was in better shape than the boat graveyard itself, but it too had fallen into disrepair and neglect with the downturn of port activity. Some warehouses were in better shape than others, but only rare few had been kept up to code.

Moving around quietly, Thomas had scouted out the area for a while after having bribed one of the local bums with a couple of bucks to mention what areas of the docks ought to be avoided even if he was looking to see if there was some warehouse worth acquiring in the area. The bum had seemed doubtful of his excuse but had warned him off a couple of locations, one of which he was currently looking at.

The old warehouse building's walls had been reinforced with metal strapped over broken masonry sections, and it had a pair of bums outside of it watching around, but looking more carefully he could see both of them had guns. The place was merchant business, a modest one if not a big one, but still worth tipping off the BBPD or PRT about.

At least it would have been if not for his intent to deal with the matter himself. He did need the experience after all. His face was once more hidden under a glamour, though he had a mask on his face beneath said glamour anyway. His glamour in turn simply that of a man of his size, dressed in black full body suit, with no real markings and a ski mask combined with goggles that concealed even his eyes. It was a simple enough look for them to see and remember if questioned.

He focused his power on a sleep spell, and let it loose directly against the two by the door. The gesture accompanying the brief word he whispered drew the attention of one of them towards him at the corner, but before they could comment the bum slumped back, knocked out cold. The other one didn't even get that much warning.

Moving over closer he glanced at the two of them warily, before taking their guns off of them and pistol whipping both of them hard enough to make sure they'd not be waking up anytime soon. The spell might well wear off while he was still in the building otherwise.

Glancing inside from the doorway warily, he saw the indoors area had been turned into a drug den with some makeshift interior walls set up. He could see at least half a dozen people passed out around the room, and two more still smoking something together. Well he figured that was better than passing around a needle at least but he still didn't like it.

Another use of his sleep spell saw the tired pair slip off to the arms of Morpheus as well, leaving the room quiet as he stepped in. Looking around, all eight people around the room were looking tired, dirty and somewhat similarly dressed. Merchant thugs as well as clients perhaps. They had a couple of couches inside as well as a small table with their produce on it, a nearby television left off, and a microwave oven and a half-sized fridge near the corner of the room. It seemed apparent they were meant to stay around there rather than walk off for any reasons.

Walking past the sleeping group after a couple of repeated castings of sleep to further encourage all to remain deep asleep, he moved to the door beyond them, and opened it quietly looking up at the building beyond that office space slash drug den area.

What he saw caught him slightly off guard. The space was divided into a storage area with a few crates arranged into walls, with a few spots set up to rest back on it seemed, but there was also a space with two modified cars, plated in scrap metal armor and both holding a mounted weapon, one strapped on the roof another on a makeshift platform on the back.

What's more, he saw a number of parts scattered about, and a third car that looked half-finished resting nearby. As well as a group of four merchants, among which was one woman in stained overalls.

"Hurry the shit up or Skidmark and Squealer will have your asses," the woman warned the others while loading up stuff besides the car, while one of the guys snorted loudly.

"Yeah yeah, like you weren't late yourself. Shit, the boss even said we ain't gonna attack for two days while getting all this shit together." He looked over at the woman with annoyance, only to be whacked across the jaw with a wrench.

"You wanna tell Squealer we didn't get these things ready? Huh? Didn't think so. She plans to show up and do her own personal touches on them before we start and that's not gonna be in two days, so get to work you lazy shitbones or I'll toss you out on your ass and cut you off cold turkey!"

That was interesting bit of news to hear. The merchants had a big attack planned in the future then it seemed, and the fact Squealer wasn't here herself implied they might be putting up a large number of cars for merchants, and the fact Squealer would still show up to make some personal touches implied they would be more dangerous than they looked, though nowhere near as bad as the truck Squealer herself drove.

Regardless, he had a feeling that this place was proving a lot less profitable than some places would have, and while there was likely some drugs stored around the place, it did seem like the merchants were mainly using the place as a garage and small-time storage.

The fact the large doors for moving goods from the docks were both shut at the time made him relatively confident there were probably no more fellows walking about out there, leaving him to worry about just these four people around the cars. Still, a fight could get ugly and wake up the rest of the group in the other room.

Not to mention the fact the woman there seemed to be competent at directing the others, meaning they might be a touch harder to deal with as well. Stronger minds could resist some of his powers after all, though the chances weren't too great given what he'd seen. Then again, it seemed that his powers had given him rather strong baseline to work with.

Seeing the guys were moving large scrap metal plates to attach to the car's sides he frowned slightly. Yeah, attacking right away would make a ton of noise and draw the attention from the others.

Returning to the other room, he cast a few sleep spells around on the crowd, before taking a moment to strike each of them with the back of the gun to be sure they'd stay out. While he was somewhat concerned of excessive force, he was reasonably sure they'd get by with only a headache from it.

He headed back to the door to the warehouse side only to get a strange feeling something was wrong. Frowning, he looked around but saw nothing had really changed, and turned his attention back to the four that were currently working on the car.

Focusing his mind, he made a gesture at the car targeting the two guys on one side of the car, having them slump down and collapse while dropping the tools. Hearing the woman cuss and storm over around the car, he saw her yell at the guys before pausing, just before Thomas focused a second time and the magic washed over the remaining two. He saw the third guy collapse, while the woman staggered but stayed on her feet.

"CAPE!" She yelled while drawing a handgun from inside the coat she was wearing, looking around.

'Damn it, good thing the people in the next room are out or this could turn real bad real fast.' Thomas moved ahead while trying again, but even as he made the gesture the woman turned towards him and the next moment a gunshot echoed in the room, and he found himself laying on his back.

His head was killing him too. The woman marched over in a hurry as he lay back quiet, looking down at him and letting out a long breath. "Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck, shit, I just shot a cape, fucking hell."

Before she managed to get further however there was a strange noise and she stumbled ahead, a weird bolt in her back that looked like someone had tried to combine a syringe with a bolt in a compact space. Though he only recalled one person who used bolts in Brockton Bay.

"Shame, guy looked like a predator, even if a stealthy one. Could have been more interesting." There was a kick at his legs from the shadowy figure standing nearby, looking at his face.

Thomas had already felt the pain fade away, the gunshot having done little more than break his mask and hit his skull, apparently his health points and gamer physiology kept it from messing with his brains beyond a headache even if it hit him. At least that was the theory he had, because he certainly did not feel like the bullet had entered his skull, his head ached when it happened but it was not like he felt something still in his head. The mask was probably a goner though.

"Thanks for that assessment."

The words had the cloaked girl swirl around fast aiming a crossbow at his face, for a moment, before lowering it. "Shit, you tanked a headshot? If you're a brute why all the sneaky stuff?"

"Not a real brute, some bits of materials in the suit, and a mask under the hood. Pretty sure the mask is toast, but all I got is a concussion from that. Still doesn't mean I don't owe you, not sure I could have got back up before she shot me more once she realized I was still breathing."

So he lied, the pain wasn't feeling as bad as a concussion, but it probably sounded a bit more logical. Given the way she merely nod at him she seemed to buy it or at least didn't question him on it.

"Got a name?"

"Not a registered one. Got my powers and wanted to test them out, thought Merchants were an easy choice in targets. Though I was hoping to report this in as 'Blackjack'." He saw her looking at him and decided to try and explain. "Grab bag with a combo of powers that work well enough together most of the time. So far only really needed the little sleep trick to put them down for a bit with most." He shrugged after this.

"Heh. Guess it's not really all powerful though, given this drugged up bitch got the drop on you when it didn't." There was the Shadow Stalker he had come to expect.

"Yep. Good thing my mask could take it, had she shot me in the throat you'd be reporting a casualty tonight." He shrugged while getting up on his feet, getting a small nod from Shadow Stalker in turn.

"I got to call this one in. I'm supposed to talk you all about coming to PRT for testing and all that shit but they'll neuter you and take your balls if you do." She said this with some annoyance, while he nodded his head to her in answer.

"I guessed that might happen so I figured make a small demonstration of ability before even considering it. Still, I'd prefer them as allies rather than enemies." He saw her nod slightly at this.

"Get out while I call this in, and I can honestly say you slipped away while I was distracted." Shadow Stalker's attitude did surprise him a bit, but perhaps the fact he was attacking the merchants alone did earn him some mild respect in her eyes.

"Fine, fine. Though if you were up for it I'd like to hint the Empire next somewhere, just don't know the spots where to strike so I don't draw their cape reinforcements in so early. Would prefer to bloody up some of the rank and file instead for some practice before even considering throwing down with the rest." He saw her look at him and he got the impression she was glaring at him, mask or no, even in the dark.

"You better not be hitting on me." She said tapping the crossbow menacingly, before she pulled checked her phone briefly.

"If you're serious though, then meet me on Wednesday night at eleven thirty at the alley opposite of Ugly Bob. I'll show you a suspected place of theirs, and if you're serious I'll see if you got a hunter in you."

"Noted. Eleven thirty, opposite of Ugly Bob, Wednesday." He nodded and then headed out, even while hearing her make the call. No real souvenirs or trophies from his attack, but he walked out of it and he got to meet Shadow Stalker. Who was a bitch to Taylor. Who was also pretty badass when she was out working and hunting down thugs. Though he had to wonder if she was on an unapproved patrol or not, and if not, then where had she left her partner.

The fact she was calling it in made him wonder about it, but he briefly figured she would likely claim to have shadowed a possible cape out of sight till seeing him get shot and downed, before moving in to assist and check if he was alive before calling it all in. That seemed like the sort of story he'd put together in her shoes at least.

He left the place behind in a hurry, but did not remove or change his glamour until he was a fair distance away, changing his looks to a tired, worn down look of someone who he hoped would appear mostly uninteresting. The mask he'd taken off had a bullet hole in the forehead over his left eye, and it was cracked up bad enough that it had almost fallen apart on him already. Trying to wear it again would probably see it break at some point given the damage already inflicted upon it.

At least it was the cheap PRT mask rather than the one he had received during his time as 'Medic' working out from the Palanquin.

He finally entered a hotel where the clerk was happy to greet him since he'd dismissed his illusionary appearance before entering, the glamour gone he had entered as himself, paying for a night. It was pricey, but he was looking for another place and the hotel was good enough to relax in and one where the service was worth the price.

The more important card with the majority of his money was not going to see much use for a bit, but the secondary throw-away card he had acquired was good enough for simple things like this. Even if Faultline tracked him on it for whatever reason, she would know he stayed in a hotel for a night and that was that. He was certainly not planning to stay there, he had just needed a spot to rest in while making some inquiries.

There was a rental place that would suit his needs and that would more or less accept a resident as long as they had the pay to cover the rent and no alarms coming off when checked. Given his fake identity was clean enough for that, it would serve him well enough. The problem was Faultline might have that information, but he didn't feel she was likely to come after him beyond possibly being annoyed he had walked out on them after asking their help.

Then again the agreement had been held up by both parties till they had to leave, and he had chosen to walk away following that. They had a job elsewhere, he had even provided a parting gift, and he was hopeful that would soothe her temper somewhat.

Arriving to his room, he headed on over to the bathroom to wash up and shower, wincing a bit as he noticed the bruise on his forehead. It was not a bloody wound, but it was still showing. Getting shot in the head was not a fun time, that much was certain. Not needing to see a doctor about it was a definite plus in favor of his points though.

Slumping back on his bed, he closed his eyes, and could practically hear a victory theme jingle in his mind briefly, as he could practically see the stat increases list out. His abilities with magic had also improved a touch, granting him access to the second level of spells. It wasn't much, but it was an improvement on what he'd had earlier, so he was happy about that for certain.

The hunters were out there now, and given what had been over the news earlier, he was pretty sure this 'Firestarter' he had seen reported to have shown up a short time ago was one of them. Which also showed him that he might have to prepare to take them down hard. At least this particular one seemed to have no qualms about involving innocent civilians.

He had to admit though he was reluctant to take anyone's life. He could have killed the Merchant thugs, but he had held back from that. He didn't think it was necessary, even if it would have been easier. He was reluctant to cross that line as long as it was an option to avoid it, but if it came down to either him or some crook with a grudge, he would kill to save himself, or he might kill to save another just as well.

The flip side of that was the fact he also believed that someone willing to kill should also consider the probability of getting killed, and he was not too happy with the idea of having to go so far. Video games saw monsters and bandits defeated, but many of them were taking place in fantastical words of fantasy or science fiction setting, and even modern ones tended to have a feel of taking down your enemies who weren't really people. Still, video games were video games, and actually killing someone made him somewhat hesitant.

The fact he was a gamer didn't mean he had lost his morality or restraint, but at the same time he felt he could get over that hesitation in a hurry without trauma if he so desired. It was a loss of humanity in itself, but it was there, and he knew if he took up that offer then he would give up a piece of himself for that power.

Leaning back on the bed, he silently wondered about the other two hunters though. There was no real announcements about them yet, but he'd be careful, and watch the news and the forums in the future for any signs of changes. Of course, stuff outside of Brockton Bay was largely up in the air so it was hard to be certain, but with the Firestarter, not only had they arrived on the day the hunt began, but had also displayed some strange powers so far. Not dying when supposedly killed, throwing fire from their fingertips, and the whole arrival scene had also seemed just plain bizarre to him. Yet familiar in a half-forgotten way. He wished his new improved memory had extended on all the random little pieces of trivia from his life prior to arriving to Brockton Bay, but the memory enhancement was more along the lines of improvement from that point forward.

Author's Note: Enjoyed a good weekend and back to posting this, not sure if I will manage a post a day this week or if I'll stick to 2-3 chapters but we'll see. Lastly, while the MC doesn't particularly like Shadow Stalker, they are not going to provoke her when she's holding a crossbow and getting useful information doesn't hurt either. Still, I considered a few different options there for a bit as I had a few alternatives in mind for short term scenarios including flat out starting a fight between the two, but decided to go with this choice this time around. Larger plotlines are set for the future, but some smaller things are still kept open to both choices and in some cases, the roll of the die. Even including Shadow Stalker's choice to go with tranquilizer bolt rather than a steel broadhead one.[/hr]

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.4 New

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Aug 21, 2019

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#74

Apprentice 2.4

January 12th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

"So we proudly present, Miracle!"

The PRT announcer's proclamation was met with a loud cheer, as the audience was clapping and smiling eagerly at the new young addition to the Brockton Bay Wards. Walking up to the podium and waving to the crowd, Antonio Zucchero was enjoying the attention as he came to stand before the podium in his new costume. Andrea Smith loved the spotlight, and even if she was now temporarily trapped in a male body she could not fix to her liking due to the limitations of what the being that sent her there had set in place, she was getting more comfortable with it and of thinking herself as a he, albeit only temporarily.

"Thank you, Michael, it is a pleasure to be here. I am Miracle, named so because my ability seemed like it when I first learned of it. My abilities are well suited for healing, but also for helping fix things that are broken, and in joining the Wards I hope to be able to use them to aid in fixing what is damaged in this lovely city. I will be looking forward to helping people out and doing my best to bring a better tomorrow."

The speech was cheesy and while she had listened to Glenn Chambers about what she should say, they seemed to think due to her age a more elegant speech would seem fake, written for her, and they wanted a one that seemed more natural to someone of her age. Regardless, she was enjoying the show. In just a few days she had got her suit made for her, and was presented to the adoring audience who too quickly fell for her charm.

In the meanwhile the news had been playing reports of Firestarter's attacks around the East Coast, having struck at several places, sometimes simultaneously, starting to raise question if they were a teleporter mover, or if it was possible that they were actually either part of a group trigger of psychopaths, or possibly worse, a master with ability to create disposable minions that could not be differentiated from the original under their mask.

Regardless, Firestarter had already got fast tracked for Kill Order, and unofficially the Protectorate heroes had already been striking to either take them down hard or at least to cripple them for capture, but whenever damaged bad enough they seemed to vanish and reappear short time later.

That left Andrea wondering about the last one among them. The third hunter had seemed more thoughtful and careful when presented with the news, and her observations back then lead her to wonder if they were taking a route similar to her own, infiltrating some group and preparing to turn them against their foe.

Still, Andrea had found as Antonio that there had been not one but several recent arrivals to Brockton Bay scene which annoyed her. One of them was a low level brute that had seemingly come out of nowhere, agreed to be tested, but had then left and seemingly vanished into the Brockton Bay. Another arrival she had heard about had been Medic, another healer in the city but one that had gone either Rogue or Villain, working under the protection of Faultline's gang if not a probationary member of their group. Lastly there had been some reports about a vigilante by the name Blackjack recently, reported in by Shadow Stalker of all people.

Unfortunately, she seemed to be rather wary of Antonio and seemed to regard the little boy a pest rather than adoring him. She wasn't blatant enough to complain to the others about it but the other Wards seemed to be well aware that Stalker's personal relationship skills were quite blunt variety.

Watching the broadcast about the young boy added to the Wards that day, Thomas frowned quietly while considering their possible plans. It was almost guaranteed this was one of the hunters, and the fact they had chosen to go to the PRT and the Wards meant that they were likely planning to work against him in their ranks. Either thinking he'd go criminal, or believing he would be in the Protectorate or Ward rows as well and thus closer to strike against.

He did not know if the hunters knew where he had gone and how he had acted prior to their arrival, but he figured that going too close to any of them would be asking for trouble. Even if they didn't manage to strike him down, they would provoke some questions that might lead to trouble later on in the line. Part of him wanted to just walk away from Brockton Bay for a couple of months and return when the story was supposed to start, but that did not seem to be an option, given the nasty feeling he had when he thought of leaving for anything beyond a single day's time.

Still, it was Wednesday noon, and he was expecting to meet Shadow Stalker later to go out hunting for nazis. That was something he had not expected to be doing when he was told he was being sent to the formerly thought fictional world of Worm, using a build he had made to amuse himself, altered by the choices made by the random omnipotent being that had chosen to toss him in this mess.

Part of him cursed not having had access to the first version of the CYOA for game-breaking powers instead, or using the easy difficulty to load up on a top of powers, but the fact remained he had been given one of his builds and he should just be grateful his foes had been denied those world breaker powers as well. He supposed the entity responsible had purposefully avoided using any of those to make his stay more of a struggle. Irritating, but at least he had a set of powers he knew would grow in power and possibilities with some practice.

That much had already been proven. After meeting with Shadow Stalker he had attacked 3 more Merchant safehouses and drug dens, and grown in power to use the third level of spells, as well as push his strength to a level where it was low superhuman, past the human limit. His reactions had likewise increased, though his 'casting speed' was still a limiting factor. He had still began to maintain some spells regularly on his person. Mage armor could last five hours at a single casting by now, so there was no reason not to have it active through the entire day while he was awake, and casting it before getting to bed just in case someone tried to attack him at night seemed to go along just as well.

Leaning back in his chair in the apartment he had ended up renting for now, he wondered what to expect from the late evening. He didn't feel he could really become friends with Shadow Stalker, but she could be an ally for the time, especially when they were opposing nazis. She still went too far with the lethal bolts in costume and the bullying out of costume, but those were things he was not supposed to know anyway, and meta-knowledge was something he should not allow to show in his behavior around her without a very damn good reason.

Speaking of which, his disguise self now lasted nearly an hour, but the spell to actually assume a physically different body rather than a mere glamour lasted only minutes. Disguise Self and Alter Self were still useful together, especially as it appeared that despite the lack of fantasy races in this world, he could easily assume an elven form and gain the keen senses of one, being able to see through the night in dim light as good as a cat might. Hell, a bit of alteration and borrowing from a dark elf would let him see in pitch black darkness, though it would be in monochrome.

Faultline and her group were still not back, leading him to wondering if they were alright, and what their reaction would be when they did return. He had considered approaching them again, despite any awkwardness, but not intending to stay. Still, he had come to trust them somewhat, and working with them for protected healing sessions seemed to work rather well. Being able to leave the scene afterwards was the fact that worried him though. They had not treated him like a prisoner, but he had a feeling Faultline would insist on some answers he was not sure he was able to answer to her satisfaction.

Legion was enjoying himself, with four separate copies moving about. One was heading to Brockton Bay, after having secured some materials he wanted to have close at hand, while the other three kept striking out across the East Coast.

Twice now he had been incinerated by Legend, turned into an ice sculpture at least one, disintegrated five times and blasted with energy that made him burst on two occasions. Legend was not holding back, not after he had fireballed a group of civilians and made loud proclamations of being the doom of this world.

His power was growing steadily, and while the original had only been killed and improved once on returning from the dead, his three copies now held twenty seven, eleven, and six deaths accordingly. Every time coming back a little stronger, little smarter. The fact he didn't avoid deadly attacks was because they made him grow, though he had noted that they had to be through the actions of another. He had more or less walked right into his death twice, and had not grown at all from either case. Indeed, the second time his third copy had done that they had LOST a lot of strength and intelligence, but not enough to realize that the ROB that had thrown them in this world seemed to think suicides or practically suicidal moves would be somewhat penalized, if repeated. Occasional one went with no real loss, but repeated ones were harmful.

Well, if it had worked he might have killed himself a few hundred times to build up power and just take over the world afterwards, an unstoppable Hulk with a mind that would make the best scientists look like demented morons.

The harder the fight and the more challenging and impressive the conflict, the more he gained when he lost. Though it was the wins that made his magic grow, so he wasn't going to turn himself into a masochist for the sake of power either. The powers were interesting enough to experiment, but had their own little touches that the entity seemed to have put in place to frustrate him somewhat, but he supposed they were tolerable.

Still, a smile played on his lips as he headed over towards Brockton Bay in his current car, resting back with the goods stashed in the back. A simple charm person spell on right people had got his hands on what he needed, and a use of magic missiles had left properly ventilated corpses behind to prevent the people involved from talking.

The three copies would keep the PRT and Protectorate distracted, before he'd unleash hell on Brockton Bay and make his first try. And in his case, if first you don't succeed, try again. His combination really was the best, and he was going to prove it. He'd spank every last one of those incompetent filthy casuals and dominate this game.

It was not as if the people were real anyway. They were just pawns in the game, and this whole thing a game for laughs for the horrors beyond the stars. If he could play their game and benefit, hell yes he would, and getting to live out his power fantasies in doing so was just the cherry on the top.

Thomas headed out of his apartment and down the staircase. Having an apartment on the third floor was high enough that the street noise didn't bother him so much, but low enough that he could just take the stairs if the elevator in the building was busy. With six floors in the old building, there was one, but it was a sluggish old piece of junk so he preferred the stairs anyway.

Stepping out, he headed off towards Ugly Bob's place although not to meet Shadow Stalker, but to try and eat there. The place was described in a way that made it sound rather amusing after all, and he wanted to taste the food there anyway. Heading along in a swift step, he held up the phone browsing the threads on PHO while glancing up occasionally to make sure he didn't walk into anyone or step into traffic by accident.

People were already gushing about the new Ward, Miracle, and others were remarking how kids had no place in the Cape Scene and should know to stay out of it. Some were outright hating the fact that a kid as young as Miracle was brought in to be a 'child soldier' in their words, though it seemed they'd received a temporary ban for those comments rather quickly. Overall, it seemed Miracle had made a positive splash.

There was another thread mentioning Brockton Bay was supposedly now the highest concentration of healing capes in North America, with a list of Panacea, Othala, Medic, and now Miracle. There was some grumbling that Othala was a nazi bitch, and Medic a criminal, so the few comments wishing Miracle got a transfer elsewhere were quickly being overwhelmed by others showing some support to keeping Miracle in Brockton Bay.

One particular comment made him wince. "After all, Panacea offers healing for practically free but overworking herself, so Miracle's help taking care of Protectorate and PRT should be a welcome relief to her, while Othala heals only nazis and Medic only those who can pay."

'Well excuse me for wanting to make some money to live off of, not having qualifications to get a job in this world, and with people hunting for me so needing resources in somewhat of a hurry.' He quietly wondered if he should make an account and post, but decided against it. Satisfying as it might be, that would also get dangerous. Though he might consider visiting PRT to register officially as a Rogue Healer, and to clarify he had approached Faultline for protection while still nervous he'd end up forcefully recruited by some faction when he wasn't able to defend himself yet.

Still, he had a feeling they'd keep a very close eye on him, and he wasn't sure if Armsmaster or the others could connect Medic with Scholar all that easily. Even if the name he had given his 'Low Brute' persona probably still made the Protectorate and PRT wonder what had gone through his mind when he called himself that.

Reaching his destination relatively briefly, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. Seeing a short line he moved in to wait, continuing his browsing on his phone in the meanwhile.

Steven was looking out of the window while thinking back at what his minions had found out so far. It wasn't much, but each passing day saw more of the city under his watchful eyes, each reporting back to him whenever they spotted something of interest.

He had not yet found the location of the first one to arrive, but he had leads, and he had also checked out the locations that he had previously visited. That bit of information had come in handy, thanks to a minion he had managed to slip in to PRT.

It would take some time still, but things were proceeding well, for most part. Getting used to living in another body was one issue he was still working on, but he had improved a fair bit in the short while. Still, he was not rushed.

He already had a good idea who the other two hunters were, and had chosen to work alone after what he had seen so far. Firestarter, or whatever name he had chosen for himself, was drawing the ire of the entire Protectorate and the chances were that he'd end up hated just as much as Jack Slash and Heartbreaker in at least some circles, especially given his tendency to come back.

As for Miracle, he chose to observe and see what they would come up with. So far there had been very little to learn, and while there had been a few recent new names popping up in Brockton Bay, he was not able to point out where exactly the first one had got to so far.

He was also somewhat distracted by the new family he had gained, and the fact he needed to keep the illusion going that nothing was wrong. Revealing any powers to said family was an idea he wanted to avoid. That meant dealing with things quietly and keep in touch with his minions in secret.

Author's Note: Legion is heading to Brockton Bay, Miracle has made their public debut, and Steven is preparing in the dark. Thomas is skipping from one cape persona to another while plotting and preparing, and the factions in the city are riled up by recent hostilities anyway.

The buildup is there, but when will the lit match fall upon the gunpowder, and just how bad will it get? We'll see.

As for the builds, Thomas' build has been partially revealed before, not entirely but a fair part of it. As for the three hunters, 2 of them made their builds publically available in the thread, where as the last one was sent through Private Message. So the information could be sought out for those two at least.

Though I'll just say that Cauldron hasn't made any moves worth a mention, even though the presence of a cape with a thinker-confusing Stranger aura being present in the city and known to PRT since the MC first entered the PRT HQ for power testing briefly.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

Last edited: Aug 24, 2019

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.5 New

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FrozenTome

Aug 24, 2019

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#77

Apprentice 2.5

It was ten past eleven at night, and Thomas was standing in an alley opposite of the Ugly Bob's place, leaning into a wall and waiting. Shadow Stalker had mentioned eleven thirty, so he was a little early. Still, he was dressed up for the fight, this time having acquired actual selection of clothes to fit the appearance he had chosen. Since he was not going to walk around with his face in the open, but more properly covered, he had decided to skip out on the disguise self for this time around.

Instead, he had a mage armor already active and it should be for most of the night. At an hour a level and his magic pushed up to the point it was, he should maintain it five hours before needing to reuse that power. He should have been keeping it active since he started heading out, but he had thought he'd use another selection of powers instead and the gunshot in the head had given him a serious wakeup call of his own mortality.

Sure, he had not lost all of his HP and fainted back there, or flat out killed either, but the shot would have been fatal to him if not for his power saving his ass from the fire. He had lost a chunk of health in one go, but that was fixed by a bit of rest and healing magic. Truthfully his abilities seemed to eradicate pain fast enough by now that he had not considered the amount of damage he had taken until later.

"You're early." He heard Shadow Stalker's voice seeing her emerge from the dead end of the alleyway, figuring she had used her power to slip through the fence to surprise him.

"Not by that much, and I figured it was better to show up ahead of time rather than to show up late."

She didn't answer that but instead glanced over his clothes. Black jeans and sneakers, a black hooded sweater, and a new ski mask on his face along with the hints of a mask beneath it. Gloves covering his hands, and a belt holding a couple of pouches she eyed briefly.

"Have you got everything you need? There's a couple of dogfights going on so most of the Empire thugs will be there, making it a good time to hit a few of their other businesses."

"Sounds good, as much as I would like to break up those dogfights I think it would put me in the crosshairs with Hookwolf in a hurry and I'd rather practice before tangling with that bastard."

She snorted briefly, where in amusement or disbelief that he'd challenge Hookwolf he couldn't really tell, but headed off and he followed quickly. Reaching the rooftop was easy enough thanks to a back alley fire escape and the large old trashcan placed beneath the stairs on the lowest level.

Once on the roofs he followed after her and found the increase in strength and dexterity translated to a bit of extra speed and the length of his leaps was sufficient to cross the gap between buildings easily enough most of the time. A few places made him take a running start and push himself as he leaped, but it was hardly a problem with feather fall already prepared. He had set it up as one of the contingencies earlier anyway.

It did have a synergy with one of the other spells he had picked for the night anyway. Being able to fly would be useful in case they got in trouble. It would mean being more or less a flying target for a moment, but he should be able to get some distance between himself and the foes in a hurry, and the time would hopefully also let Shadow Stalker vanish if necessary.

Moving along after her figure, he noted her ghosting in her other form at a couple of rooftops, looking back appraisingly at how he kept up and crossed those roofs, before nodding her head and gesturing at a nearby building ahead. "That is our first target. On paper it belongs to First Care, one of Medhall's subsidiaries, but the truth of the matter is that it seems to have been abandoned a fair time ago. The Empire has taken it over since then, and either someone in First Care is taking bribes to look the other way or they simply don't care their property is being used by Empire. Given the First Care's director is racist, it could be either way."

Thomas nodded his head while quietly wondering if Medhall was being sloppy or simply having a subsidiary in between was enough distance to keep the blame from ever reaching them, beyond being possibly seen as too light in observing their subsidiaries for unacceptable behavior. Either way, he doubted Max Anders would let a trail right back to him or Medhall to exist, scapegoat to sacrifice in the event of discovery was a far more likely end result for any exposure.

"The building has an open space for the machinery they used to prepare kits and other equipment they made, that stuff still being there, the second floor has office space area and a laboratory space next to the pharmaceutical section. Those seem to have been mostly cleared of valuable equipment, but the Empire has set up their own little drug-lab there."

"Huh. Usually you hear people talking about drugs you think about the merchants first, not Empire." Thomas looked at her only to find her glaring at him like he was an idiot.

"The Empire is hardly advertising it but they make money off of drugs, whores, protection racket and all the other shit the other gangs do just as well, their boss Kaiser is just better at PR than Skidmark is, and Lung doesn't seem to care to promote himself to non-Asians anyway." She replied him in a somewhat annoyed manner, making him feel her opinion had dropped a few levels about him at the time. He simply hoped it wouldn't make her tempted to try and shoot him in the back later.

Since there was a gap on both sides of the building and a large one behind it preventing them from roof-hopping over, they dropped to street level. She did this with her ghosting, while he simply walked off the edge muttering the incantation for feather fall, landing fast but soft on the ground, and walking it off while she was looking after him.

The chainlink fence surrounding the back had a single gate on it that was locked at the time, but not exactly a problem. Shadow Stalker walked through the fence and glanced at him, waiting. Eyeing the lock for a moment he simply activated the flight spell for a moment, and made a gesture of crouching slightly, before taking an apparent high jump from standing still, flying ahead in a parabolic arc before landing down quiet on the other side, a touch slow for actual jump given the spell's speed limits, but managing. He dismissed both and shook his head slightly, while trying to calm his mind and let the minute's wait to relax himself and recover the spent bit of power while glancing at Shadow Stalker.

"Exactly what powers do you have? I believe you mentioned being a grab bag earlier." She watched him seriously while he shook his head.

"I am not going to share the exact details, and I doubt you will either. Suffice to say I went back to the bag for several tries, and while none of my powers would make the more powerful capes raise a brow, I got a number of smaller ones that can come in handy." His answer seemed to be met with a frown followed by a nod before she headed to the back of the building.

The door opened from the inside after Shadow Stalker ghosted inside, and Thomas followed her inside quietly. The ground floor was mostly quiet, the two of them saw a pair of guards present, but a whispered sleep at one, and a simultaneous tranquilizer bolt in the back of the other took care of the guard issue.

Shadow Stalker had also chosen to poke the second guy with the same bolt briefly, dosing him as well. "I have no idea how long your power lasts, but given you needed to confirm they stayed out I prefer to rely on this. The tinker serum makes sure they stay down for a minimum of two hours at least."

The two of them moved up to the second floor quietly, and ghosting ahead Shadow Stalker spotted a few more guards present. Thomas proceeded to knock two of them out by his sleep spell, followed by a jab by the bolt in Shadow Stalker's hand. She had idly noted that each of her tranquilizer bolts had enough juice for five men, or in case it hit a resistant target, it could overdose them according to the reaction the bolt got in feedback while embedded in the target. Meaning a single bolt could knock all five doses into a brute and potentially stagger them if not necessarily knock them down in one shot.

The fact she carried several of them in her quiver was an overkill in his opinion, but he figured it was a compromise to get her to drop her use of lethal broadhead bolts in turn. Regardless, he was grateful she made sure those foes stayed down, even if his magic should leave them down for five minutes. A bit of rope and gags and he could have started leaving bound crooks behind for police to capture later.

Moving along, they reached a doorway with a group of five men guarding it. He frowned at the sight of that much resistance, and prepared his magic. Even as he did so, Shadow Stalker had her crossbow already aimed at the group. He cast the spell, and was rewarded by sight of three of them collapsing, the fourth staggering slightly on the spot. A bolt slammed into the chest of the fifth one taking them down while the fourth leaned to the doorway and knocked on it loudly before Thomas got a new spell out, and watched the last guy to drop.

The door was opened, and the man behind it took a step back in surprise as the guard who had collapsed onto his knees slump back against his feet, backing away a step. Giving Stalker enough time to line up a new shot, the crossbow having drawn back the string by itself for her.

The man glared at the two of them seeing his men down, reaching to his side for a large gun and moving out of the doorway as Stalker's shot flew, and stabbed into the guy's arm. He yelled, yanking the bolt out right away, but staggered already even before Thomas' spell came and struck again, having him collapse.

They moved in fast, finding the room beyond to hold a pair of men in suits, one of them holding a phone to his ear another holding a gun. Thomas' had went up even as a gunshot sounded out, a brief flash in the air before him showing the mage armor doing its job stopping the bullet dead, even as his own hand caused a rush of three silvery projectiles to fly forth. Two of them smacking into the chest of the gunman slamming him down, the third shattering the phone and hitting the man's hand hard enough to visibly break three of his fingers, making the man scream.

Shadow Stalker had slipped through a wall nearby and a shot from her crossbow dropped the last man in the room, before she glared his way. "Looks like we can expect company anyway." Her tone was leaving no doubt in her opinion about who was to blame for that.

"Could be. Didn't exactly hear him talk, so he may have already just got the call out and went unanswered, but the fact that there was a call in the first place is bad enough." He moved over to check the second guy in the room, carefully touching his neck and confirming that he was still breathing. Lifting the man's shirt, he noted a pair of large bruises, one in his guts, one in his chest. The impact of his magic missiles had done their job, but he was also keenly aware that without his choice to be merciful those same missiles would not have struck like blunt impact but like sharpened blades, likely resulting in a dead man at his hands.

He had learned on acquiring access to the third level of spells that he apparently could push some meta-magic into place if he tried, and his first pick had naturally been merciful. Being able to turn a lot of his more potentially deadly powers into non-lethal variety opened a fair share of options for him. While he maintained the option to kill if it became absolutely necessary, he preferred having the option to strike someone down without taking their life. Bruises would heal, eventually, after all.

He moved to check the first man that had not been knocked down by the first bolt, turning him around. He seemed a tad familiar, but he wasn't sure why. Shaking his head, he was just grateful the guy wasn't a cape, that could have been a nightmare. Still, he glanced at the downed men in suits and then at the table they'd sat at. Open there was a bag holding several bricks of white powder. What was not there was a suitcase full of money he had half expected to find as well.

"Looks like a pretty straight up drug deal, though I have to wonder who the guys in the suits are. If they don't have reinforcements coming in this could result in a few arrests. More BBPD stuff than PRT though." She lifted her phone, looking back at him.

"How about we check the third floor before you make the call?" He asked, seeing her frown again. "We can check it after I call this in. If they have reinforcements coming we may need some as well."

He let out a sigh but nod. If Shadow Stalker was saying calling for help was smarter choice, then it probably was so, because he didn't feel she was likely to want to call someone in, especially with a potentially rather unscheduled patrol as well.

"Piggot wants me to bring you in. Armsmaster as well." She added after a moment and held the phone ready, looking at him before he let out a sigh.

"Fine, but a debriefing only, I am not taking the power testing nor am I interested in joining. I want to see the gangs back down and hit them where it hurts but I doubt I could do that wrapped up in red tape." He said this in a serious manner, looking at her quietly for a moment before she nod in turn, and made the call.

Once she was done, they proceeded upstairs. Going up, they found a pair of alert guards but acting together like on the first floor, they took the pair down. At the end of the hallway, an airtight laboratory space had two guys going through what seemed to be a decontamination process. Except when one took off the helmet on the bulky suit he saw one of them was a woman.

His power flared and the two collapsed on the ground, leaving the case the woman had carried to drop down. Looking seriously at the case, he lifted it up warily and opened it up, finding himself looking at a series of five large glass containers of liquid that gave him a bad feeling about it. He wasn't sure why exactly, but he was more concerned about it than the drug packages on the lower floor.

"Shadow Stalker? I think this is going to be reason enough to call in the PRT." He held up a container in his hand and grimaced. "These things are giving me a serious bad vibe, tinker tech sort of bad vibe, and the fact the case they're in seemed pressurized before I opened it and with cooler active around these is telling me that holding one for long might not be a smart idea." He put the glass container back in place in the case, and then sealed it, noticing that after closing it the case let out a brief bit of noise inside again.

"Fuck. If those two downstairs are Gesellschaft, then we might have stumbled into something bigger than mere drug deal." She looked a bit more wary about that, even as Thomas moved near a window and grimaced. There were cars coming in, and they didn't look like the police or the PRT. He saw four cars drive up nearby, and two men in masks followed by a masked woman get out of one car, with a total of twelve thugs getting out of the other cars in turn.

"Well, it looks like we're going to have to prepare for a fight, and from the looks of it, they're responding in force. I see three masks, and I'm pretty sure that's Hookwolf and Cricket, and given that the last guy is shirtless, that might be Stormtiger." He grimaced and shook his head while Shadow Stalker was cussing and raising up phone to report the change in the situation quickly.

"I'm heading down to the second floor to watch the staircase down." He spoke seriously and headed off, while Shadow Stalker nodded behind him. "Hide the case and come after me when you can, whatever happens I figure its best to keep that from their hands in particular."

He wasn't sure how this would end, but going after three of the Empire's capes alone was not an appealing idea, but letting the foe grab their goods and do a runner was a very unpleasant idea as well. He was just hoping a few merciful fireballs would give them sufficient reason to back the fuck away.

Drawing a deep breath and sighing, he leaned his head to one side and then the other clenching his hands and headed along to watch the stairs. "Come get some."

Author's Note: This chapter is somewhat late from its original intended post date, due to real life matters. Still, the next one is under work. Also, the main character has read about the charaters in the stories, but not really seen images of them, beyond some available in Parahuman Online, which may not exactly contain good pictures, and he's looking down at them from a window, not sure if they are who he guessed they are, but either way he is aware of the fact they have 12 thugs and 3 masked figures arriving, and considers who he thinks would be bad news for the two of them right now.[/hr]

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.6 New

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Aug 26, 2019

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#78

Apprentice 2.6

Thomas Wolf was wearing the disguise of Blackjack, as he had chosen to name the persona he was currently using, standing ready for the arrival of the thugs he was expecting to see. Whispered words formed a shield in the air in addition to the mage armor, the twin layers of protection both fading away unseen until called upon, facing the staircase to the first floor.

Shadow Stalker was probably either calling in their situation or possibly moving the vials to a hidden location. That or she might have disregarded his words and used her ability to scout the enemies and start taking shots at them given a chance to strike. She did not seem like someone who would take orders too well from one she didn't really have to, and she was likely only here because she wanted to see him in action after what she'd witnessed before.

Gathering heat in the palm of his hand with a mere thought, he began to prepare the fireball spell, holding it at ready when he heard steps approaching the staircase. A touch of meta-magic meant the fireball was supposed to be non-lethal, but that only seemed to mean that the damage wouldn't be quite as severe as it could be, if the magic missile spell was to be used as an example. Then again, the guy had already taken a shot from Shadow Stalker's tranquilizer bolts so he didn't have a good baseline to work with.

Seeing a group of half a dozen thugs, at least four of them skinheads, rushing into the staircase he smirked and shoved his hand forth while releasing the fireball spell he'd been holding. "Burn!"

The thugs barely had time to realize something headed right for them before yelling and then enveloped in a blast of heat and concussive force, throwing them down with smoldering clothes, minor burns all over but he saw no black charred flesh or burnt to skeletal state bodies, so he could call it a relative success at least.

"The fuck!?" He heard a yell from below before a slashing storm of spinning blades rushed towards the stairs, and above the group of men charging right up at him. He was already preparing his counter-strike for this eventuality, having chosen fireball for area of effect strikes, and another third level spell for single targets, or direct lines at least.

The sparkling lightning at his fingertips seemed to catch the metal wolf by surprise even before he thrust his hand forward, actually pushing it inside the whirling mass of blades given how close Hookwolf had got.

"Eat it!" He yelled, and watched in delight as the blast of lightning struck through Hookwolf's figure the lightning jumping from one piece to another in rapid succession given his metal nature, but also scorching through the core within the changed physiology of Hookwolf, causing the storm of living metal to jerk back and tremble before shifting back into a man, just in time to receive a tranquilizer bolt right in its chest and send the man tumbling down the staircase.

"Thanks!" Blackjack yelled to Shadow Stalker he saw momentarily before she flashed into a nearby wall out of sight.

Just seconds later four thugs appeared at the edge of the staircase raising up their guns and opening fire. Four pistols and two submachine guns, they'd not come here loaded with heavy assault weapons at least, but the flashing shield and the cracks against his mage armor did give him a warning to back away a few steps and out of the line of fire at least.

Just then the window besides him shattered as the woman with a gymnastic physique seemed to leap in and land on her open palms only to spring right into a kick into his face. Angled out of the shield's direction, his mage armor barely caught it enough to slow it, but the impact still hit and sent him cheek first into a wall letting out a groan, even as she flipped back on her feet and withdrew a pair of sharp kamas from behind her.

Cricket. He had not paid too much attention to her, but the gymnastic build combined with the scars and those reflexes certainly made her a dangerous contender, and there was still Stormtiger on his way up as well and several more thugs with guns as well. Not to even mention the fact that he didn't know if Hookwolf would stay down, shocked and tranquilized or not.

He raised his hand to begin to cast only for Cricket to interrupt him with a slash at the wrist. Instead of chopping his hand off the blade left a nasty cut and caused her to have to yank the blade downwards in a slash rather than a sideway chop she had intended to carry through, leaving her momentarily out of position.

"Fuck!" Blackjack cursed loudly at the slash and moved back down the hallway, further off from the stairs while Cricket moved to follow him in a swift step taking another running start. He turned to face her properly and casting again, her kamas swung ahead in a dual strike.

Only for them both to slam into the invisible barrier of his shield this time, piercing through but hitting the mage armor again. They resisted damage he took but up close and personal her strikes were still dangerous, especially the further he reached from his own torso, which had also been evidenced in how Hookwolf's blades had cut into his hand and arm earlier, though thankfully not too badly in the short moment.

"Fry and cry!" He let out the few words as the bolt of lightning struck out of his fingers, slamming the window and shattering it going ahead at the distance before hitting a sign-board on a rooftop and causing it to spark a few flames at the spot he'd hit. The woman he'd tried to hit point blank having dropped flat just in time, and slashing at his leg causing him to yell as he stumbled back.

"Little fly is going to die, playing with the big leagues!" Her voice came out rough, but the cut on her throat gave him a good idea why, but as her arms pulled back to slash at him there was something that made her swiftly jump to the side even as a bolt flashed by the two of them where she'd stood just a moment earlier.

"Oh you'll pay for that-" She had started to say when Thomas reached out and grasped the blade of the kama, cutting his fingers, but releasing a new burst of lightning right through it. His hand felt like it was burning and cut at the same time, a very nasty sensation, but watching Cricket tense and tremble as if electrocuted made it worthwhile. Shadow Stalker took that moment to yank something off her belt and throwing it down the staircase, only for it to get flung back up and explode near the top of the stairs expanding to a big ball of containment foam, almost catching her in its grasp.

"You okay?" He yelled at her only to see her move over and reload to then put another Tranquilizer bolt into Cricket briefly, before reloading her crossbow once more.

"Just peachy. Hookwolf is still down and out cold and I got three more of their thugs with a foam grenade but I only had two, and the second one was wasted trying to hit Stormtiger. At least it should hold the staircase and the downed Hookwolf for a while unless Stormtiger is capable of cutting through." She frowned.

"Could he?" Blackjack asked to check only to be met with a glare. Before she could answer there were blasts sounding out against the containment foam, causing it to shake slightly on top of the staircase.

"It is possible since he's not trapped inside, but chances are that it would take them too long to do so with the authorities on their way." She smirked slightly.

"Then I suppose we remain vigilant for any other surprises and if we're lucky, hand over Cricket and Hookwolf to the PRT troopers and Protectorate soon enough." He glanced outside, and at the cars. "Might also make retreat a tougher job for them." He felt a tad tired of throwing higher level spells though, and took a minute to calm his breath a bit. Finally, he reached out, and unleashed a fireball amidst the cars. The blast shook them but unlike the movies, it didn't cause them to explode with ruptured fuel tanks or anything. Another blast spread nasty scorch marks all around, and the car he'd specifically targeted had its windows blown and the interior caught on fire.

"That is pretty strong for a Grab-bag you know. Lightning, fireballs, causing people to fall asleep, some sort of shielding, and enhanced leaping abilities? It seems like you didn't just go for seconds but third and fourths as well." She smirked slightly but then frowned. "The Protectorate would love to have you but then neuter you into a showpiece." Her tone was more than a little aggravated at the last bit.

"Well sharing credit with a Ward for capture of at least one Empire cape and quite possibly two if they can't get Hookwolf out in time, I think the first impressions would be better than some that have gone around." His reply was amused and his tone seemed to convey the message through well enough if her own short chuckle was to be accepted as evidence.

"She got you with a couple of nasty hits. You alright?" She asked glancing at his leg and his arm, while he waved her off.

"I'm fine, I felt the impact but I think she intended to chop things off rather than leave me with nicks and cuts." He felt her grab his hand though, and turning his palm up, showing the cut open palm of his glove and the red line on his palm.

"Bullshit, you're a brute on top of all the other shit? What the fuck, seriously?" Her tone was annoyed but she looked at him seriously while holding said hand.

"Not a proper brute actually, a mild healing factor, other than that, it is the shield power. It takes most of the punishment but it can't stop it all, especially when it builds up." He left unsaid a few of the bullets shot at him had gone through, but thankfully missing him. The shield and mage armor kept diverting the shots that were essentially blind-fire after his earlier blast had scared the thugs somewhat.

"Any other surprises I can expect you to just pull out of your ass that I should know about?" She asked him in a serious fashion while he smirked slightly behind his mask.

"Not at the moment, I'll tell you if things change." He glanced out of the window, seeing a number of cars rushing in from the distance. The blasts against the containment foam in the staircase had stopped too, and he saw a group of thugs heading out towards their cars, only to pause at the sight of the burnt stage they were in.

Not wasting an opportunity, he dropped one more merciful fireball at the doorway, since he'd already broken the window earlier anyway. The blast caught them off guard once more, but Stormtiger was rushing off unharmed. Shadow Stalker shot at him only for her bolt to stop and get flung away in midair, and Stormtiger turning momentarily to gesture at the two of them. The next moment, the glass exploded and Thomas yelled with glass shards in his eyes as he stumbled back, and he could hear Shadow Stalker cursing loudly as well.

"Fucking... fuck!" He groaned and winced while reaching up to yank shards of glass out of his ruined eyes while shuddering at how it felt, but removing them swiftly even as he heard Shadow Stalker get up and then hearing her footsteps vanish.

He emptied out the worst of his eyesockets, before pressing a hand on his chest and muttering a healing spell on himself, feeling the energy rushing through his own body. The cuts and slashes he'd taken earlier having already turned into bruises, but now washed away entirely. His eyes had began to recover after he had got most of the glass out, the spell only seeming to accelerate that by actually purging the glass from his previously ruined eyes. The sensation was about as gentle as someone running sandpaper over his face, and he screamed momentarily and clutched his hands together before his chest.

"Motherfucker... fucking shit.. Oh damn I'm going to really need to get myself a mask with some proper protective lenses." He shivered but blinked, finding his vision clearing up once more. The cars had stopped below, and the PRT markings on them showed, with troopers moving in to secure the thugs on the ground.

He glanced at the downed Cricket and leaned against a wall nearby, waiting a moment. He heard some hissing noise and noted the staircase's containment foam being melted away by something the troopers brought, and a shout. "It's Hookwolf sir!"

Two Empire capes down, not bad. He smirked slightly while getting up, seeing Armsmaster heading up the stairs before he paused seeing him and Cricket nearby. As Thomas opened his mouth Armsmaster's halberd was already up, and before Thomas could really speak a dart shot out of its end slamming into his chest.

Staggering back, he glanced down at the said dart and then at Armsmaster, and growled. "Fucking traitor! I'm a her-oo..." He felt himself shiver and fall back, slamming on the ground and passing out.

"Armsmaster, Shadow Stalker reported she had happened on a crime in progress with the vigilante Blackjack, who this masked man likely was given he showed no signs of hostility and sat near the downed figure of Cricket." The admonishing voice from Dragon sounded out inside Armsmaster's helmet as he oversaw the three capes captured at the scene being loaded into PRT van.

"The man is a potential threat, and the burns on these victims suggest he might be related to Firestarter. I would rather check and verify than to allow him to walk away after such a show." His voice brooked no argument on the issue, as he glanced at the gang members who had mild burns all over their figures and clothes that seemed to have been touched by a flame far hotter than the burns on their skins suggested.

"Firestarter has been spreading panic near Boston area but there's no evidence of him having arrived here, and Blackjack has already been reported to have taken down foes non-lethally before, and while the gang members are injured, none of them are dead. Even their burns are such that they should be able to heal over time, and Panacea or Miracle should be able to clear it up in minutes." Dragon wasn't going to just let things rest it seemed.

"I am not going to allow some psycho going around with powers like this to corrupt one of the wards and this was not a scheduled patrol night for Shadow Stalker either, I have good reason to suspect this man may be up to no good and I want him securely contained for the interrogation."

"All you are doing is alienating a potential ally, one who has shown themselves capable of facing up to Empire Capes and assisting in their capture, as well as staying behind on the scene rather than fleeing from the scene."

"Given the blood on his leg it is quite possible he was unable to run away after being wounded in the fights that took place earlier. No matter he will be treated and brought out of sedation in a cell at the PRT HQ later." Armsmaster said seriously before heading over to squad leader among the troopers.

"Send a message back to Miracle we may be in need of his services shortly, bringing in some wounded gang members, two Empire Capes and one unregistered and potentially hostile vigilante. Cricket and Hookwolf both display electrical burns through their bodies."

The trooper nod and moved to relay the message ahead, while Dragon was quietly trying to find out what she could about the site in question. It had apparently been more or less abandoned for a short while after downsizing of a company producing some medical goods locally. The security system was more or less shot, the cameras on site were not working properly. She suspected Shadow Stalker may have had a hand in that, but it could also potentially be a fault caused by the electrical attacks unleashed by the vigilante cape.

What did concern was the fact that six minutes later, a message arrived noting that Shadow Stalker had been tracking down Stormtiger and returning to the site after Stormtiger had managed to slip away from her.

More to the point, she noted that Director Piggot had left her with a request to try and bring the man in for a debriefing and a power testing as well as a recruitment attempt. An attempt that was more or less doomed to fail now thanks to Armsmaster. Dragon couldn't help but wonder what had resulted in Armsmaster taking up such an immediate dislike on the cape and resulted in him shooting the man with the tinker-drugs that were still being prepared for taking down brutes of the same class as Lung.

This had the potential to cause a major bit of damage. She swiftly moved to examine a few internal messages to check and see if Armsmaster had been informed of Director Piggot's directions, only to be surprised to find a message stating that the ward Shadow Stalker had been spotted spending time around a dangerous vigilante of unknown allegiance recently and had been suspected of flirting with the young woman and potentially trying to draw her back away from the Wards and back into Vigilantism, along with a few more scandalous remarks noted.

If Armsmaster had read that message instead of the one others had received then his hostility was easier to understand but checking back on it, she found that for whatever reason the original message had either not reached Armsmaster or had been immediately deleted, replaced by another that should not have been in the system in the first place.

Which meant that Armsmaster was being manipulated as well, but it would probably be best to let him hear things from Director Piggot directly later, seeing as they had already made the mistake of tranquilizing the man and taking him back to PRT might just aggravate things further but hopefully cooler heads would prevail in the end. Regardless, she had to recommend Armsmaster be denied any interaction with this man again if she could prevent that, at least until the mistake had been fully cleared up with both parties.

Back at PRT HQ, Miracle received a message on his new tinker tech phone listing out the information about the soon to arrive captives, their general condition and a request for him to confirm they were not in any immediate danger as well as to provide healing to at least alleviate the worst of what they had suffered.

When he noted the name Blackjack that did not belong to any of the known players in the city he smirked slightly. Would it really be this easy? Would PRT bring in the prey all secured and ready for execution? He'd need to find a way to make 'fixing' the man kill him without arousing suspicion, merely stating there had been something wrong that interfered with his power when he touched the man or something similar.

He might put himself under a microscope if he couldn't come up with a good reasoning for his actions and an excuse that managed to slip through, but if it secured his end-goal it would be worth it. Smirking to himself, he got up to head on over to the infirmary to wait for the arrivals.

Author's Note: Armsmaster is getting a rather alarming image of a man spending time with one of the Wards he is supposed to be overseeing and one that he could easily see as a bad influence in a number of ways, and he acts on that information in a hurry confident that the circumstances warrant such actions. Had to do a last moment edit to switch Miracle's point into He, despite the female mind inside the body is a male one and she is adapting to thinking as a he, and constant use of she/her felt out of place.[/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.7 New

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Aug 27, 2019

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#83

Apprentice 2.7

Riding back towards the PRT HQ inside the PRT van, Thomas Wolf slowly began to stir as the tinker-tech drug that had momentarily flooded his veins began to fade. If it had not been meant for a strong brute he would have likely fought off its initial effects as well, but as it stood he had been momentarily knocked out, only to be forced awake a few minutes later when his body fought it, minute by minute, until it managed to more or less eradicate and expel the foul substance from his body.

'Armsmaster just made himself a new enemy. I don't really care for his reasons, this was unacceptable treatment.' He wanted to take the bastard's halberd, snap it into two, and then bend over the man and shove the blunt end up his rectum. He doubted he would really do it, but the vengeance fantasy did make him feel at least a little better. Breaking the bastard's weapon would probably cause him enough pain to satisfy his need for revenge if it came down to it.

He was laying on a gurney, wrists strapped down, as were his legs, another band around his chest as well. Annoying, and further evidence that they thought they needed to secure him down. The fact he was riding alongside Cricket and Hookwolf did nothing to improve his mood for that matter.

He was just grateful that gamer physiology reacted to any debilitating effects with alarm. His immune system was further boosted well above human limits thanks to his experience, and the anti-brute tinker drug was still useless once expelled by the body it was meant to limit and sedate. He felt somewhat groggy but even that was clearing up quickly enough.

'I have limited time before we reach wherever we are going. PRT HQ or Protectorate rig? Probably the PRT, I doubt they want to drag me to the rig itself. Not when I am set between these two bastards. Nobody else riding in the back to watch us, possibly due to lack of a room. Three gurneys do take a fair bit of space.' He shook his head annoyed at the circumstances while considering other important matters.

'If I was brought in sedated, it might mean that they would have me put in a cell for a time, and possibly alerting the Wards to the presence of prisoners. Including the new ward, Miracle. Which might mean they would see it as an opportunity to approach me with the intent to rid themselves of either competition or target.' He frowned quietly. The thought of being helpless and at the mercy of what would likely be a completely amoral bastard with no mercy in their hearts to begin with was an unpleasant, chilling reminder of just how badly Armsmaster's attempt to bring him in could screw him over.

He tried to move his hands, finding that the bindings were holding him relatively securely, by all appearances, but they were certainly no brute cuffs. He should be able to break free if he pushed himself, but that would create some noise. Frowning, he thought back at his spell list before a small smirk crossed his face. A small little cantrip he had picked in the past just because it could prove useful at times was possibly the answer.

'Acid Splash.' He whispered the words a fingertip pressed against the cuff's side, and a small splash of the sizzling liquid appeared immediately. The hit that close did cause minor harm to his wrist, but nothing that his body couldn't cover up on the spot. He could heal up afterwards.

Repeating the same on the other cuff with his one hand free, he pulled as far away from the point of impact as he could and found this time he didn't get that much acid droplets on himself. He melted the bindings over his chest and waist, before reaching down to undo the straps around his legs, melting them too. It was a touch petty, but even with a hand free, he was perfectly willing to ruin PRT equipment for the insult they had delivered upon him with this clumsy attempt.

He might have considered sticking around for an interview and debriefing earlier, but Armsmaster's behavior had made him annoyed. His Gamer's Mind prevented him from really acting out on said urges but it did not prevent wishing the man harm, and the bit of damage he did would just serve to further the image he was a grab bag with plenty of powers who they had purposefully alienated, after this.

Taking a moment to glance the back of the car, he re-enabled the mage armor and shield, realizing belatedly that the fact Armsmaster had landed that shot on him spoke of remarkable skill. The spells should have diverted the shot, but then again he had drained them a fair bit and his shield spell had not been aligned towards the man, but still, the fact the mage armor had not deflected the projectile made him wonder if tinker-tech devices assisting his aim could work counter to his magic to some level? A shot so direct it would not be easily deflected but piercing through the protective layer to hit straight on. Or maybe it was a mental thing, he had not thought Armsmaster to be hostile and the shot had come as a surprise?

Shaking his head, he glared at the lock at the back of the PRT van. They were on the move, but glancing at the doors he could tell they were somewhat reinforced. Yet they were meant to be opened from inside, and this was not a specialized prisoner transport. Still, just trying to open the door didn't work.

Sighing wearily, he gathered up a bit of power for a second level spell he had picked for utility purposes. He had not used it, since Shadow Stalker had been 'gracious' enough to open the way before, but now that PRT was playing games with him, he might as well. Gesturing at the roof, he muttered the word, and the burst of power erupted from his hand.

"Shatter. With that word, the roof blasted apart like hit by a tinker tech shotgun, no resistance from any of the possible armor plating along the frame. 'Flight' was a serious boost to his abilities to get away, and leaping up high he emerged only to be greeted by a pair of blasts hitting his shield and mage armor but falling off, rapidly expanding goo that failed to take hold on him due to the magical protection not really sticking to it. Containment gel shots like that meant they were reacting quickly though.

'Invisibility' was the third and last part of his exit strategy in this case. He made the appearance of bracing for rapid acceleration in mid-air, while the whispered word and a small hand gesture made him vanish from sight before the PRT forces. He actually did accelerate immediately after while carrying out what he felt were appropriate evasive maneuvers, just in case.

Leaving the hostile forces behind he was bristling with anger even as the Gamer's Mind was cooling his tempers. He wanted to attack them, but even if Armsmaster was a dick he wasn't going to involve others in that fight. The damaged equipment and show of ability would draw some attention, but right now he had other things on his mind.

Thomas Wolf shivered while letting the water run over him in the shower. He had already healed himself up, but the adrenaline rush had lasted longer than he expected and the crash had still hit him pretty rough. Not as bad as it might have, thanks to his Gamer physiology, but he still obeyed some rules of biology, even if after twisting their arm and making them cry uncle to get a more favorable deal out of it.

Right now, he was considering a number of options. Protectorate and PRT had a keen interest on him but his little dance switching personas would likely have them jumping at shadows and chasing non-existent leads. He was not sure of whether Shadow Stalker had left to chase Stormtiger, retrieve the chemical containers, or what, but her absence along with his capture certainly made him very reluctant to consider assisting Protectorate or PRT at all.

Still, he wanted to help get rid of the gangs and strike to weaken them to make it possible to begin with. They might erupt to gang warfare, but the situation had already been heading that way anyhow.

ABB might have stayed out of it but Merchants and Empire had been clashing repeatedly in a manner suggesting that an all out warfare might break out soon. If it did, reducing Empire forces would hopefully also reduce the damage they would do to the city.

Nevertheless, he was not sure if he should keep his now 'obviously more powerful than normal grab bag' identity as Blackjack or not. If he did, then he would have an unfriendly stance with Protectorate and PRT without some serious explanation on their side. The fact he might seem like a less-powerful copy of Eidolon given how he'd been pulling extra powers one after another might also make them assign more thinkers on the case, which would be annoying.

Heading out of the bathroom in a robe, he moved to the kitchen section and heated himself up a small meal, wolfing it down rather quickly. The healing spells did a fine job, but any remaining little aches seemed to melt away as soon as he ate something. The gamer's body was amazing in its ability to recover, and just eating a hearty meal could have meant leaving the healing for later. Though he had preferred to be at his best before heading back to his place, a change of clothes having waited him in a bag on a rooftop he had flown to earlier and again after that little escape, a bag he had dropped while invisible.

Flight and invisibility meant he could get around easily enough, and undetected for short periods of time, making him move about a lot easier than he used to. Jumping on rooftops had been more fun though, as it became a game alongside Shadow Stalker. For all the nasty stuff said about her in the story, he was willing to admit when it came to the hunt, she was effective.

He didn't think he'd ever like her as a person, but as a warrior fighting against the Empire 88, he could offer her his respect. More than he would give to Armsmaster, that backstabbing two-faced pompous dick. He really wished that the Armsmaster he'd meet wasn't as bad as that, but apparently he was not quite so lucky.

Finally making a decision after finishing his meal, he made a call to a familiar number.

"We need to talk."

Legion was smirking to himself. He had been striking at several places, and inspired a fair bit of fear and terror. After getting his hands on Alter Self and some quick summons he had spread further terror by making demonic beasts appear and attack, even if they vanished briefly after. His role as the Burning Legion was going splendid, people scared and running away like headless chickens when he began his games, but the Protectorate response times were getting better, and they seemed to have grown wise to scout around for him as soon as they put him down, wanting to strike him down as fast as they could.

Perhaps they thought he had some cooldown they needed to beat? Stupid fools didn't realize he has ascended above such petty things as cooldowns on abilities. Well, not entirely, it still took him a bit of time to return but it was a short delay only, and his mind and body were stronger and stronger each time it happened.

However the real fun was just starting. He had gathered a few scared, but easily convinced youths around him, and shown them the humblest of his magical tricks while talking a good talk about how the Legion was coming and this world was going to fall to them. He had made them an offer that he knew the desperate fools would take.

They would become Cultists to the Legion, and in exchange, he would teach the Cult Magi the basics of his magic. The power of Apprentice was that it could be taught. It could be replicated in others.

He made an elaborate show of granting that power though, and warning that if they tried to teach others, they would likely only kill themselves, because to 'share the shard of demonic magic would stretch it too thin, and just kill both.' A blatant lie and a bluff but he doubted they were willing to give it a test.

Still, they had no access to spells beyond what he'd be willing to teach, and he'd only teach them everything they'd know, not everything he'd know. Even just being able to throw first level spells and cantrips should amaze and draw in these fools with a desire for power, for being special, for being important in some way.

Soon, the Legion would strike not only with beasts and immortal messengers, but with rows of maddened cultists that would spread chaos and destruction all around.

Gritting his teeth together he chuckled quietly to himself, glancing back at the package in the back of the car. He had been gathering supplies for a while, and running five copies of himself alongside his true self. Only two were attacking directly, two were teaching a cult, while he and his 'youngest' copy had been making preparations.

While he was not in a rush to the end goal, he did plan to test the first one. If they were pathetic and weak, then killing them before others could pull it off was important to make sure his powers would remain his own. If he was strong and slippery enough to slip away, the fight would only serve to make him stronger in his true self anyway.

The Burning Legion would take over the American soil, one city at a time, and they'd make that pathetic gang of murderhoboes called Slaughterhouse Nine weep with bitter tears of envy. Heck, he might just see about converting Jack Slash, the man might make for a useful addition. Then again, the man was supposedly rather convincing, but his devotion was to the Legion and the end game, and he doubted Jack's mind twists could match that singular purpose.

Steven was focused on a new set of minions, his work having proceeded unhindered for several hours. His guardian was away, late at work, giving him free run of the house in their absence. Working quietly, his network was already spread across the city of Brockton Bay but it still had holes at some spots. Holes that had been made all the more apparent earlier that night.

'Blackjack' had been out fighting, and the fight had drawn attention of the police and PRT alike. His minions had reported in quickly, and he had directed others to watch over the area. He had watched as two empire capes were brought out along with Blackjack, and then watched and witnessed the escape.

After the cape had pulled off his disappearance act, Steven had stopped to consider the possibilities from all the information his network of minions could provide him. So far, it seemed that nobody was quite sure where the man had gone, and how exactly his abilities worked. There was also a rather volatile reaction when news about the breakout reached parties who had been working in late and received word too late.

Steven considered the possibilities. He had not been able to have a minion track Blackjack after he pulled the escape act, but the modifications he was making would allow his minions a chance to not be caught off guard again like that. It would take some time to tinker and make everything ready, but he was not in a hurry yet.

Even if Blackjack had been momentarily caught, some of the information from his minions lead him to believe it was because he had not expected an attack from Armsmaster, a move that Armsmaster was likely not able to repeat again. It did provide him with some more data on his target's capabilities at least.

Miracle was gritting his teeth together quietly while fixing the damage done to Cricket and Hookwolf. Both of them had been injured, and from the looks of it his foe had chosen to use electric attacks similar to a high powered taser. They were painful and able to knock someone out, but they had actually done very little damage, at least comparatively speaking. The damage looked worse than it really was, but still, it did showcase a particular vulnerability.

The enemy that he and the others were hunting was unwilling to kill. They acted like this was a comic book world and using guns or otherwise lethal attacks was unacceptable. That meant they limited themselves and would likely have some heroic tendencies that could be exploited in the right circumstances. It also meant that trying to convince others he was a bad person might be a touch more difficult to pull off.

Still, he had fixed a number of things before that had endeared Armsmaster to him given he helped the man focus on his own tinkering while Miracle could cover the maintenance needs. The man had actually offered a short word of praise to him the other day, something that had left Clockblocker staring at him open mouthed. He had half expected the boy to yell out 'bullshit' at him for a moment but Clockblocker had instead chosen to walk over and shake his hand, loudly proclaiming he had to be the new king of Brockton Bay, for he had removed the stick from Armsmaster's ass.

A comment that had lead to Clockblocker sitting at the console later on when Armsmaster heard about it from one of the others.

Still, it was not all sunshine and wonder. Missy, or Vista as she preferred to be called, had been initially thrilled to have another younger Ward around but then quickly growing jealous at how he got accepted and his ideas given consideration. Kid Win was often asking him to help fix things, Dean seemed somewhat wary, but it was Shadow Stalker that troubled him. She glared at him and sometimes sneered loud when others didn't notice, seeming to be eyeing him in a rather hostile manner.

He wasn't sure if it was just her disliking the fact he was helping everyone and being loved for doing so or what, but the Stalker bitch had began to make things difficult, and that meant that he might have to either find a way to make Stalker fall under his aura, or get rid of her.

The problem was that Shadow Stalker just plain didn't hang out with the other Wards, meaning she only received short touch of Miracle's aura, and the small doses kept fading before they could root in. Missy Byron, or Vista, was also not around nearly as often with the way her parents were seemingly arguing about leaving the city and taking her with them, but unable to really stand one another.

The fact she wanted to be with the Wards meant she would be around longer sometime soon, but for the moment she was around only long enough to receive a partial dose of Miracle's aura, and thus with her own doubts.

The fact that Dean was occasionally glancing at him weird made him wonder if the boy would be trouble later. He doubted it though, Dean was more focused on his girlfriend than worrying about him, and given the two of them broke things off and got back together once already in the time Miracle had worked for PRT just showed how quickly those things changed between those two.

Author's Note: I am considering a longer interlude chapter, or a possible PHO interlude for the next part. Either way, another small timeskip is ahead before the events of Apprentice 2.8. The Hunters are preparing and planning, the Main Character is considering the future options. Lastly, while Legion is considering cultists, having a 'dedicated' clone in their numbers to watch them closely is a necessity to prevent any apprentices from trying to go beyond what Legion is willing to teach them. Still, hopefully the ride has been entertaining so far and will remain that way. On the matter of some comments made earlier, Belial666 certainly had a right start in the idea, and Rope Trick might have been better one to pull off, but the character's spell selection at the time was different, given their earlier preparations.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.A - Interlude New

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FrozenTome

Aug 29, 2019

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#85

Apprentice 2.A Interlude

Kaiser

It had not been a good start for the year for the Empire Eighty-Eight. The Merchants were causing trouble, getting bold enough to attack several Empire properties and meeting places. Firebombing, drive-by attacks, kicking in doors and rushing in so high on drugs they didn't even realize they'd been shot before they collapsed on the ground, but doped up to a point where they managed to cause serious damage in a number of cases.

Several of their men were dead or badly hurt. Victor was in charge of guarding Othala and Othala was in turn taking care of their injured. It was a slow process, enough that he had considered contacting Faultline and hiring the healer she had managed to hire recently. Perhaps see if he could convince the man to join the Empire, after all, there had been some leaks suggesting that the Merchants had run into the man before, and noted he was a white guy.

The damaged properties, ruined business and general damages were getting annoying. Then suddenly there had been a series of attacks against the Merchants, even destroying several of their vehicles. He wasn't sure if it was some Vigilante targeting the Merchants to reduce collateral damage to the civilian populace or an Empire sympathizer looking to prove themselves, but this night he'd got his answer.

There had been an attack at a laboratory that Kaiser had sought to keep secret, a place he had only sent trusted veterans to watch over. A laboratory that had helped turn a shipment of drugs into a rather foul patch they had intended to 'leak' into Merchant territory, a drug shipment that would have spread to a number of those damned junkies quickly, and that would have then had them all coughing out blood in two or three weeks. A rather long delay to make them miss the insidious additions, but it would have taken down a number of Merchant thugs and customers in one go.

That was secondary however to the fact that the attack had resulted in capture of both Hookwolf and Cricket. Of the two, he had report that Cricket had at least managed to strike and injure the enemy, but Hookwolf had been taken down in one nasty shot, and Stormtiger had been attacked from behind by one of the Ward brats.

The damned bitch had tried to tranquilize Stormtiger while the man had been diverting any fire from the Empire men firing up the staircase after the first group had been blasted back by what had been reported to have been some sort of an incendiary grenade that had knocked them back scorched but still alive.

The whole situation was annoying. The Empire was busy with the Merchants and these attacks had made Krieg complain, and Hookwolf had been snarling mad before. Alabaster had discouraged more than a few raids by Merchants, and been on the counter attack along with Rune, who had bombarded a few known Merchant drug houses from the air before flying off, while Empire recruits had got their baptism by fire in raiding and shooting up Merchant scum.

Alabaster and Crusader would join Stormtiger in striking back against the PRT later, but first he'd want Rune to be back, along with Fenja and Menja returning from their own assignment. After the recent fighting, the ABB had began to sniff around a few Empire properties, and the twins showing up in costume managed to clear out the crowd of ABB watchers in a hurry. After all, the last thing Kaiser wanted was a war on all fronts.

Still, the insult against the Empire couldn't be forgiven so easily. This 'Blackjack' had gone from a possible convert to a target, maybe not a priority one right away, but he was sure that Hookwolf would be looking for a rematch, and Cricket too possibly.

"Boss! Boss!" The doors opened to let in a hurried messenger, who swallowed nervously holding out a fax he hurriedly brought to the desk. "I just got this, and look, boss, this is bad, this-" The man only paused as a metal blade emerged from Kaiser's desk and stopped just short of cutting into his throat.

"Calm down Gregory, and let me read that." Kaiser took up the paper and frowned, wondering what could set off this lieutenant like this, before his eyes widened at what was listed on the fax. His fingers clenched crumbling the fax lightly while he felt a cold sweat start to gather, and swallowed audibly.

"The PRT captured those containers, and did so intact?! I thought the instructions were for those to be evacuated as soon as there was the first sign of trouble! And why am I only hearing this now!?"

Armsmaster

The night had started out well enough, capture of two Empire capes and thugs, a shipment of drugs off the street was another good addition, and Shadow Stalker had even managed to snatch something interesting that he would have to examine later, a case containing tinkertech canisters with unknown fluid contents.

The problem was that after the capture of those Empire capes they had also taken down a vigilante who had been reportedly behaving in a rather suspicious manner and potentially alienating Shadow Stalker from the Wards and drawing her back into a life of a vigilante. A man who's intentions were rather uncertain as well. He had found it best to take the man down and interrogate him later with more effective lie-detection tech he had. None of it was miniaturized enough to fit in his armor or halberd, yet, but he was close. The earlier prototype was functional, but with too high margin of error for false readings.

The moment things had gone wrong was when on their way back to the PRT HQ he had been holding the case when there was an alarm in the van holding the prisoners. They had been in a hurry, and loaded up the three sedated foes into a van to escape because the word was that Stormtiger had already left to get reinforcements, and Rune had been reported in the air nearby. Waiting around could have risked potentially losing all of their captives.

Yet one of them was on the move, and then the damn ceiling had exploded in the van. A figure had flown in the air, and the driver and the man riding shotgun had thrown their con-foam grenades right away only to watch the grenades detonate impacting something in the air before the man, and fall down harmlessly.

Seeing the man fly in the air like that, and then vanish, Armsmaster was checking his helmet camera's recording to confirm whether it was instant acceleration meaning a very high mover rating, or a stranger effect of some sort, but he was having no luck.

The infra-red, ultraviolet and low-light vision modes recorded each gave him nothing, the infra-red had at least shown the air had been hot where the man had been a moment earlier, but no signs of where he'd vanished, no trail, no signs of heat emanating from a particular direction.

As if that had not been annoying enough, they had been attacked on the way back to PRT HQ by Rune pelting their cars with metal, but had to retreat when additional forces showed up and Armsmaster was joined by Assault and Battery.

He had expected at least some gratitude for returning with two Empire captives, but instead he had only just finished a long talk with the Director, a talk involving some rather heated words and chastisements. Worse, she had been livid he had alienated a potential recruit, and one that apparently had a number of powers.

The fact remained their Thinkers were already reporting that the man in question was heroically inclined but one who would likely not take an attack on his person very well. The Thinkers were stumped at how he would react, half of them were inclined to reply 'liable to hold a grudge' while the other half were stating 'may be salvageable if kept away from Armsmaster'.

Which meant that his stock with the PRT and Protectorate had taken a plunge, despite the capture. He had been yelling at Shadow Stalker for being out on patrol without informing the PRT about it in advance, and about meeting with a man who had unknown motives. The fact she'd simply glared at him had not helped, she was prone to explode in anger but this time, she had seethed and then arriving to PRT, she had given a full report, but not to him, but Miss Militia.

And here he was, in his lab, working on his tech while distracted by the recent scolding and finding himself receiving a number of glares and suspicious looks. The Director had almost called out Master Stranger protocols on him, if not for Dragon convincing her that there had been something else going on, but they had sent him out of the room rather than letting him hear what it was, refusing to talk about it with him right away.

It was frustrating how inefficient things were right now, and how the distractions were slowing his tinkering pace down further. Thankfully Miracle was at least able to help him dodge the maintenance work and focus on the improvements instead, otherwise he might have had to shelve the upgrades and focus on the maintenance routine for a while given how distracted he felt. The pace of his work was just not up to the usual standards, and he was annoyed even further by this.

Faultline

'Medic' had been a stranger when he arrived, but he had proven himself willing to negotiate, and kept up his part. When Faultline had received the job offer that would take her out of the city, she had suspected something might happen, but she was still annoyed by the fact Medic had decided to walk away in their absence.

Still, his scrolls had proven useful, and she had already confirmed they worked. The fact he could create those scrolls was puzzling, but she could not help but find them useful. The utility powers could help prepare for unexpected circumstances, having a healing one around would mean taking care of immediate wounds and preventing someone from dying if they were still alive when the scroll was used was a very useful power indeed.

The fact Medic had contacted her again, and was willing to return, at least part time, was a matter that left her somewhat torn. She appreciated the goose laying golden eggs returning, but she was also aware he was unlikely to remain under her watchful eye all the time now. Still, healing, and producing those scrolls would benefit her team and would benefit him as well. The scrolls were something she would have to ask some questions about first though, and she was unwilling to risk marketing those. But they would be very useful to keep at hand for her crew in a crisis.

As for the answers she had demanded, he had promised to share some with her, but had insisted on keeping others to himself, for now. Nevertheless, she was looking forward to continuing at least the healing practice for a while. PRT had managed to snatch another healer of their own, but they would undoubtedly want to snatch up Medic as well given half a chance. Same with the Empire, she thought somewhat bitterly. She had almost expected to find him in their rows on return, despite his prior comments about not supporting the Empire's agenda.

Nevertheless, the man owed her and the crew some proper answers to get any trust back after running.

"What do you mean the path has changed?" Doctor Mother asked entirely serious while staring at Contessa intently, as did everyone else in the room as well.

"The recent events in Jamestown and Brockton Bay have sent off their own share of ripples. Jamestown incident has resulted in a spread of conflict, which is expected to result in a number of additional triggers, but also a number of new issues involving the stability of the current regime. The 'Firestarter' is a problem who needs to be brought down quickly, or they may cause additional trouble. Thankfully they remain easy enough to path to some dead ends, but no path so far has seen their complete eradication happen." Contessa answered in a serious tone of voice, holding a small icebag to the side of her head, her usual fedora resting on the table before her.

"What about the Brockton Bay? I am unaware of any important events there, the Parahuman Feudalism experiment is proceeding as expected is it not?" Eidolon looked at Contessa a bit troubled by the fact the usually immaculate look she had was currently far less so.

"Brockton Bay is hard to path. Attempts to path known individuals still works for most part, but the city itself is changing. There's a growing blank spot around the city area which has been causing short gaps in the path resulting in the path resetting with subtle changes only to reset again." Contessa shook her head.

"A new blind spot means a threat to the scenario and the experiment. We will need to locate the source of the interference and deal with them promptly." Alexandria glanced at the others and was met with a nod.

"We could call in a favor from Battery from the Protectorate, and one of the favors that Coil still owes us. Additionally, the Merchants could potentially make use of one of our recent customers joining their ranks, and he would likely be willing in exchange for a suitable payment and us writing off one of the favors owed to us." Numberman remarked this briefly.

"The problem is that there's not one blindspot that could be tracked down, but hundreds if not thousands. They're short ranged but disrupt pathing around them, making them a problem." Contessa stated while putting the ice bag down for a moment, looking a bit ill.

"You don't look so good." Eidolon felt a need to state the obvious.

"I am currently trying to adjust paths to ignore Brockton Bay area and focus on achieving our goals outside of the territory. However, the fact of the matter remains that while Brockton Bay area needs to be checked for the source of these blind spots there, it is Firestarter who is a more serious issue. At the current rate he is going to start causing additional steps through interference in several main paths within months, and if not stopped before April is likely to result in loss of some substantial assets. Individual paths to destroy him have only returned unacceptable losses with little permanent results, capture and containment however are an option as long as he can be taken down before he realizes the threat." Contessa got up on her feet after this, hurriedly walking out of the room a hand over her mouth and shuddering.

"This is becoming a serious issue. We cannot allow this disruption to our activities to go unchecked. I am authorizing the release of subjects E-38, E-51 and E-116 if that is what it takes to subdue Firestarter." Doctor Mother's words saw Eidolon jump on his feet.

"ARE YOU MAD? E-class is the sort of monsters we DON'T want to allow out of their cells, A through D I could understand dumping outside once we are done examining them and finding out what went wrong, even if I still recommend euthanizing the D class, but E was specifically excluded from release due to the potential hazard they pose and the fact we haven't found a proper way to destroy them yet!"

Doctor Mother cast a sharp glare at Eidolon who had been shouting for a moment, before dryly answering him in a few sharp words.

"Unlike Firebringer, they should still be possible to destroy as long as Legend is willing to not hold back and blast them from the air. None of them have ranged attacks or are capable of escaping from the area before intervention if we time things right."

Eidolon grit his teeth together but chose not to argue. Still, if he had a choice about it the E-class would not see any release, ever. Hell, some of them were worse than Crawler, but without a real intellect to guide them, only a sense of hatred towards all other living beings.

E-class was Cauldron's mistake of making monsters without any humanity remaining after having been administered a potent vial for experimental purposes. Then again, they were also the class that had lead to most break-throughs in their research, despite the risk and difficulty of containment.

Sep 2, 2019

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#88

Apprentice 2.8

January 19th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

It was an early Wednesday morning, and Faultline and her crew were just overseeing the last of their late night appointment members leave. The fighting between Merchants and Empire capes had hit a point where the Empire no longer had the time to leave everything to Othala. Faultline had been contacted, and though the Empire tried to arrange a hefty discount for the services of a Medic the most Faultline had agreed upon was a set payment per member of the gang healed at a pre-set time.

Which had meant that Medic had been working on healing people from 1 a.m. till 6.30 a.m. with only roughly 1 or 2 minute breaks every now and then. It took very little time to heal most people, especially once he had gained access to second and third level spells alike. The tougher wounds could be taken care of with a slightly more powerful healing spell, smaller ones fixed with one or two low level spells.

He had managed to gain access to the 4th level spells over the past week, but that had still taken some effort, and he had ran into a surprise as well. Fourth level spells, unlike first through third, were more taxing to cast, and took a full 10 minute rest to recover the charges he had for them. Then again, he could understand higher level spells taking longer to return, but that would mean the highest level spells might be a more rare resources for him to use. He still had no idea if the increase would continue per spell level or if fifth and so on would take a 10 minute period as well, seeing as the first 3 spell levels had taken merely a minute, and cantrips and orisons, or 0 level spells, basic tricks, were more or less instantly ready to be used again.

When the final customer left, joined by Victor and Othala who had been brought in as well to oversee and confirm that the healing was complete, Medic finally settled down in a chair to rest back and let out a loud sigh.

"I could have done without those blatant recruitment attempts by Victor there." He grumbled slightly, taking off one glove and rubbing his wrist. Apparently the Empire was convinced he was Caucasian and possibly Aryan, and seemed interested in getting him to join their ranks rather than working as a mercenary, and had not been shy about pointing out he should help them against the Merchant scum.

He had struck a few smaller businesses for Merchants and Empire over the past week to build up enough experience to get his hands on those fourth level spells, but nothing as massive as the trouble over at the laboratories. Speaking of that, he had been amused watching the fallout of that particular episode later on PHO.

Apparently, they had not wanted to hold a proper press conference but had issued a statement of the capture of two Empire capes thanks to one of their wards and a heroically inclined vigilante, who had 'unfortunately not been identified as a hero' on the scene but captured and subdued on the spot given the signs of battle all around.

The fact the PRT was actually going as far as to admit a mistake, even if it was painted in best possible light, was enough for him to tell they really did not want Blackjack to switch over to the criminal side. He had not answered anything in turn, but had continued to act against the capes, and thanks to Faultline's help, had acquired a new burner phone for his 'Blackjack' identity as well.

"They've been taking some damage, and it doesn't help that Lung has began eyeing both Empire and Merchants greedily after both of them have exhausted resources fighting one another. The fact that Merchants gained a new cape, 'Trainwreck', has only made things more volatile." Faultline's point was delivered at a perfectly level tone as she passed him a note indicating how much was added to his account.

Healing a total of 58 gangbangers, of whom 44 were injured in relatively light to moderate level, and 14 more in a heavy manner, he had received a sum of $40,000. The Empire had been reluctant to pay as much, but they had needed their men on the street. Given that many of them would not have been ready to fight again today if left to just Othala, who had also appeared dead tired, it was reasonably certain that Kaiser had only accepted the deal after a long arm wrestling about the price with Faultline.

"Not to even mention Firestarter." Medic said with a grimace. Faultline nodded grimly.

Firestarter's earlier attacks around Boston area had been bad enough, but what he had done to Brockton Bay so far had been a nightmare. Not quite the same level as what Bakuda could pull off, but bad enough that if the man didn't already have a kill-order on him, he would now.

Earlier, January 14th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

"Burn! Burn you unsufferable bastards! The Burning Legion is coming, and your lives are forfeit!"

Fire raged across the up-class neighborhood, with several people little more than burnt out skeletons on the ground, struck by rays of fire launched from the fingers of the floating figure, who had occasionally gathered flames in his hands to conjure fiery shurikens he threw around, blasting cars apart or striking windows to kill people taking shelter in their homes and making the mistake of peeking out.

The shimmering shield around Legion, who these peasants were calling 'Firestarter', was blocking gunshots, a three-layered protection of mage armor, shield and bullet shield laid. This protection was laid out so that there was not a single gunman in Brockton Bay who would have a chance to take him down with anything short of a massive stroke of luck with a sniper rifle at a right angle not covered by the shield spell, leaving only two layers in between the gunfire and him.

He had blasted apart a car on the front yard of the Barnes family house when his head was jerked back with the sudden appearance of a blast bolt skewering his head, causing him to drop and vanish as soon as the police tried to rush to grab his body. Shadow Stalker appeared out of a shade, already reloading and cursing before reporting in.

"Armsmaster, I just shot down Firestarter with a phased bolt, but he vanished as he has done before, I'll remain in this area in case he comes back for revenge."

In the meanwhile Legion was reforming at an alley further off, while the original smirked in a car holding up a detonator in his hand. Squeezing it down, he smirked as the explosions began. A charm person, alter self, and a bit of slaughter had got his hands on military hardware from a national guard depot. A couple of talented cultists to rig things together, and with a push of a button he sent several buildings around Brockton Bay to hell.

Incendiary and heavy explosive bombs tore through old worn down structures, collapsing several abandoned structures, some of them on top of squatters who were not even aware of the fact they had made the worst possible choice in seeking shelter in those buildings.

Not all those bombs were as innocent though. He laughed cruelly as Brockton Central Hospital's basement exploded causing the building to creak and almost collapse on itself, but unfortunately holding on. It did send a panicked rush of evacuation in motion at least, and the incendiary bombs there did cause some additional fun with smoke and flames rising high.

Laughing out loud, he started the car and grinned. All he needed for the would-be hero to show up and he would get his chance to test out their mettle. If they were worth fighting, they could-

Whatever else he had been planning to say or think was interrupted by a sudden sensation of a bullet traveling through the back of their skull causing them to slump down on the wheel inside the car still packed with even more 'party favors' to light the city up in flames. The woman in a suit and wearing a fedora fired two more shots in the back of the man's head, pulling off his gloves and planting the man's hands on the wheel, right before the man fell apart into ashes vanishing.

"Door me."

January 19th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

The realization that Firestarter had brought in enough firepower to set the city in flames had infuriated a lot of people, and the attack on the rich in particular had caused a lot of powerful people to rush to support motions for tighter grasp on crime, and to urge the kill-order to be carried out as quickly as possible.

The PRT and BBPD had lifted fingerprints off of the wheel of the car that had the explosives on it, and tested the blood they had found on the scene, but there was no match from fingerprints or DNA. The individual they were looking for not was in either database, and as far as they were concerned, they might just be looking for a henchman that Firestarter had disposed of, but it was the first time they'd had any physical evidence from what might be the Firestarter himself. They had got their hands on some blood samples before, but usually only after they had deteriorated into useless state, something the man's remains seemed to be quite capable of pulling off, and something that had at least credence to the idea they had the fingerprints and blood from the actual Firestarter.

However, PRT was currently undergoing serious talks and the PHO was live about what had been found at several sights of the bombings. Slogans painted in blood, hellish insignias, and the name Legion were most boldly displayed ones, despite attempts to keep some of the more graphic material out of the news or the net, but the cat was already out of the bag.

Not that Legion was particularly concerned. He had failed to draw out Blackjack just yet, but he had been observing the local gangs for a moment after his earlier attack, seeing how the city was already having its own gang war going on, keeping eyes open for his prey. Not much luck, so far.

His copies at Boston area had moved further off to carry on their rampage separately, following the schedule. Attack point A on day 1, attack point B on day 3, attack point C on day 4, carried out by clone 1, then 2, then 1 again, followed by 2, making the Protectorate cuss and scratch their head trying to figure out a pattern and how to fit the attack on Brockton Bay onto it as well.

They might have Thinkers on their employ but unless they figured out he had multiple bodies at his disposal and could act separately with perfect ease they'd be chasing after the latest strike even as the previous site might still have the particular clone standing nearby and ready.

January 20th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

Staring at the television screen and grimacing, Thomas Wolf shook his head aggravated at what he was seeing. The fight between Empire and Merchants had got bad enough that a few firefights had been actually recorded and broadcast for the audience, not in their entirety but giving a view of the city as a battleground, with assault weaponry pulled out in the open and showing just how bad things were.

He had been reluctant to heal the Empire members, but he was pretty sure that without his help several of the Empire's veterans would not have been out there fighting. Stormtiger and Krieg had been leading the fight, and reportedly had broken Skidmark's jaw attacking together, before Trainwreck, Mush and Squealer driving her tank-truck had shown up and blown right through the Empire forces reversing the situation.

The end result had seen PRT descending on the fight with canisters full of containment foam exploding all over, a rather dramatic move on their part. Unfortunately, it had also escalated as several gang members had opened fire on PRT troopers with automatic weaponry.

There would be more than a few funerals ahead, for both sides. PRT had not been holding back nor were the Protectorate heroes joining the attack. Assault and Battery had taken down Krieg while Alabaster and Rune had shown up to cover Stormtiger's retreat, while Squealer's tank-truck had been rigged to blow causing a massive power shortage across most of the area.

It had apparently contained a one-shot EMP device knocking down most tech, including even breaking down Armsmaster's suit, despite all the shielding, given the proximity.

Then again it had also electrocuted everyone within the 'minimum safety distance' and put Brockton Bay's already strained hospitals to an even busier, sad state.

He sighed wearily while considering his options, he wondered if his interference had escalated the conflict between the two parties so massively, or if there were other reasons he was unaware of behind the fact that things had got this bad. The canon storyline might only start in April, but he thought that something on the level of gangwar that was going on now would have been at least noted in the backstory.

There was also the fact that the ABB had been making preparations of their own, and with the way things were going it was unlikely they would hold back for long. Empire's captive members would be transported out of the city sometime soon, and when they tried the Empire's forces would be all over them to rescue their team mates. The previous two captives on top of losing Krieg would be too embarrassing for Empire after all.

The fact Skidmark's jaw had been broken amused him somewhat, but also made him shiver at the thought of Skidmark looking for Faultline's healing service. He really didn't want to be in the presence of that particular man if he could avoid it.

Closing down the television screen and heading over to his desk, he settled down onto his chair and picked up a fountain pen before grimacing at what lay ahead.

He let out a breath while holding a scroll before him, and then continued to draw the required markings upon its surface, all the while infusing a bit of power into it. It was one of the higher tier powers at his disposal, and one that Faultline had requested after he had given a short description of a few options available to him. She knew he had not told her everything, but had been satisfied with what he had told her, for now. Besides, he might well need some allies later on as well, and truthfully the Case-53s in her crew were rather amusing, and better at some of the games than he'd expected.

'Dimension Door' was a short-range teleportation power, a handy little escape trick for her to have at hand. At his current power it would only take her and 2 others she was touching, but it was better than nothing. It was also a test to see if she and the others could utilize higher level spell scrolls.

Besides, it was a spell he would be using in the future too. Even if its range was limited, it was quite useful as it stood. It did have the danger of harming its users when the spot they tried to arrive in was blocked, but the damage was minimal anyhow, especially if people were in a situation where the scroll was actually necessary for a quick evacuation.

As soon as he was done, he felt the charge deplete from his power, and a sense of temporary loss. The charge would not return until tomorrow and would require for him to rest a proper amount of time, but the scroll was prepared and ready for use. Grasping it tightly he smirked slightly. If it worked, then Faultline and her crew might be able to pull off some particularly impressive strikes later on, using things like this scroll to slip free from the grasp of anyone who might try and capture them.

He had put an effort into writing the scroll so that its use was simple enough with clearly noted command words, but so that if it fell into wrong hands they would not be able to truly decipher it, not without learning a whole new language and then trying to sort through the whole mess of arcane scriptures on top of that.

Draconic was the language of choice for spellcasters, and something he was grateful to possess. He could pick his own activation words when setting his spells, but they did require mental focus, and more often than not that vocal component, even if a whisper only, and the gestures as well. It was a power with lot of utility and variety, but weak spots that could be attacked by someone who figured things out.

Scrolls would help bypass some of those troubles, condensed down to an activation word or two, but took time to prepare.

Tattletale was sitting in the lair and planning. She had been going through the recent material carefully ever since Firestarter had made an appearance in Brockton Bay. The man in question was confusing, but also enlightening. Her powers had been providing answers that made her seriously concerned about what lay ahead.

'Former human. Powers received through deal, not trauma. Powers variable, still growing, getting stronger through conflict. Driven to conflict, seeking it, believes themselves to be human but driven to act like they are not. Unaware they are losing what humanity remains while further enhancing themselves. Mind splintered, not broken, but multi-tasked while still maintaining control through central node. Several bodies one mind? No, several bodies, several minds, linked minds, a hive-mind organism? No, pseudo-hive-mind, more collective intellect with designated director. Which is also evolving.'

The little bits of information she had managed to acquire were painting a rather alarming picture and she was close to hyperventilating about some of the other pieces of information that seemed more confusing and at some levels far more troubling.

'Believes this reality is false. A playground they can freely ravage. Believes themselves to have proof. Has had proof, but cannot call upon the proof here. This is a world of mere imagination to them, the people just pawns in a game, nothing really matters but victory, and they are perfectly willing to- to nuke the entire city if that is what it takes?'

She had to begin making some backup plans for possibly doing a runner, but in the meanwhile, she probably ought to call Coil and report what she had found about this particular arrival.

Author's Note: The contents of this chapter are only a short time skip ahead from the previous chapter, rather than the extent I intended to jump, but I felt it would be best to pay some attention to the events in question. Will move a touch further along in the next chapter.

Additional note on Legion (called Firestarter by the PRT still despite his public declaration of being Legion, though PHO is starting to adopt his name as he has proclaimed it so), he is improving through the fights he has gone through, getting tougher to kill and smarter, but playing up the role to spread fear and drawing interest and attention. They're methods may seem mad to the public but they are running several ideas in parallel and most of it is working rather well to them.

Even if Cauldron and other Thinkers can see them, they cannot root out every last bit of information about them on the spot. They are learning and coming up with ideas of what might work, experimenting and trying to find a way to put him down or contain him, but it is a process that takes time from them and runs a very real risk of him growing stronger than they can even hope to handle. Hopefully I have been able to convey that feeling well enough.

As for Miracle and Steven? Their parts will be expanded upon further soon enough, at the time Miracle and most of the other Wards are having a bit of hard time getting out, while Shadow Stalker has been acting rather independently to the annoyance of several higher levels but given she's also brought in results? She's been getting away with it.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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FrozenTome

Sep 2, 2019

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FrozenTome

FrozenTome

Sep 5, 2019

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#95

Apprentice 2.9

January 31st, 2011. Brockton Bay.

The last few days had passed relatively quietly for a change. Protectorate was busy arranging the prisoner transport that had been delayed by recent events, the Wards were out on patrol over the good parts of town, and Legion had seemingly switched back up to northern areas leaving Brockton Bay quiet for a moment.

Faultline and her crew had headed off to another job, so 'Medic' had gone in hiding once more, while Blackjack had been keeping an eye on things. The Merchants were licking their wounds and holding onto their turf but not making aggressive moves for now. The Empire was likewise recovering from their own damage and probably making preparations to free their companions from Protectorate custody later. As for the Azn Bad Boyz, they had been sniffing around the other gang territories but warned off by display of guns as well as capes.

So there was a momentary seize fire in effect, allowing for a breath of fresh air. It was also the first day that Taylor Hebert was heading back to Winslow after her hospitalization. She had spent a fair bit of time recovering, and then back at home rather than going back to school, but that grace period of time had passed and she was going to have to head back.

The fact the bullies were still there would probably make her time unpleasant, but with the Barnes residence having recently been attacked it could be hoped that the girls had other things on their minds than to bully Taylor. Hopefully at least.

Thomas Wolf didn't really think he could step up to that mess without a lot of trouble sparked up, but he was planning to keep an eye on things. If Taylor decided to step out and become a hero earlier than the last time around, he wanted to help her out. He felt somewhat guilty of what had happened to her, but he had not done anything to prevent her trigger event, so he felt trying to help her out somewhat would be appropriate to ease his conscience a little.

Shaking his head slightly, Thomas let out a small sigh while eating up his big greasy burger, having stopped by the Ugly Bob's place once again. He wasn't going to actually try the challenger but he was abusing the fact his body didn't really degrade even if he ate greasy unhealthy food. It appeared to merely increase his recovery speed for a while after a meal, and provide some instant healing boost when he did. Not being particularly injured at the time, he was merely eating because he enjoyed the occasional greasy burger, and Ugly Bob's place actually did cook them pretty well.

Finishing up his meal he headed back out when he noticed a somewhat familiar pair. A black boy sitting next to a blonde girl, he was pretty sure that he'd seen them before too. Thinking about the fact he'd actually picked their faces out of the crowd made him tense slightly as a few facts fell into place.

The two of them matched the general image and size of Grue and Tattletale, but he couldn't really be sure. They weren't looking right at him at the time but he did notice a glance in his direction while he was heading out. His man of mystery advantage was being worked overtime to provide them with a touch of false-information while trying to make it seem normal enough. Yet he had little actual control over it beyond general level of its power and method.

He was supposed to be a blindspot to Cauldron, one that their plans wouldn't even notice, nor re-trace steps if he interfered at some point, at least not without placing another plausible reason in place to deter attention from him. As for his general appearance when not in costume, he was to provide basic information that would not draw additional focus. His costumed identities though, those he wanted to keep quiet and under a mask.

He'd got used to moving around the Brockton scenery, but he didn't really acquire a car for himself since he could get around a bit easier with flight, invisibility and now dimension door. It took some preparations to avoid getting caught, but the process was pretty amusing when he got it working right.

Dimension door from rooftop to another allowed for pretty fast movement, jumping vast lengths, but once he was out of charges he spent a fair bit resting back to recover them. He'd not seen what else he might do eventually, seeing as the fighting had calmed down for the moment and he was in no rush to stir that hornet's nest again.

Speaking of which, Firestarter had officially been renamed Legion after his attack in Brockton Bay, given the sheer number of slogans painted all over, and the explosions had made sure his name was on the kill order list. There was a bounty on his head now too, once confirmed truly dead. There was another bounty for his capture, a higher one actually, if someone was able to take him down and keep him out. Though it didn't seem that either of them had too many takers.

Lastly, there had been interesting bit of flame war about 'child soldiers' and 'kid assassins' given the news that Shadow Stalker had actually put a bolt right through the man's skull had been leaked out in rumors even if there was no camera footage of the event. The PRT was claiming it had not happened and to stop with the rumors, but the stories had run wild and Shadow Stalker wasn't part of the more frequent patrols.

Tattletale was surprised to see the man she'd noticed before show up for a burger as himself. The fact was that her power was now providing some answers, but analyzing them a moment in her head she soon determined they were false, making her power assume the man was perfectly normal. The fact was, her power began to note it too, after some effort analyzing it. It didn't offer any real details but it did give her the confirmation she needed.

"Brian? I think that's the guy we lost back at the bus station earlier." Her whispered words were carefully picked in case someone did overhear. The message did get across though, making Brian glance at the man's direction before frowning.

"Should we follow?" He asked her seriously watching the man head out, while Lisa considered their options. He may have noticed something off about them, possibly going as far as to identify them, but had chosen to walk away rather than confront him. Chasing him now might make things difficult in the future, but then again missing this opportunity could mean they would not get another.

"Yes, but careful to not get spotted. I think he noticed us and I have a feeling he would notice us following him openly." Her tone was somewhat wary, as the two of them finished their meal. She had to leave a few fries resting on the tray and the bottom of her cup still had some soda amidst the ice, but snatching the cup and the fries along would have made her stand out a bit too much.

The two of them were out in a short order, and Brian was already calling for Regent. Alec was a pain, but if they wanted to have a chance to get some new information on the guy they might need a third to step in.

Thomas was less than pleased about the fact he had picked up a couple of shadows as he soon noticed. He had proceeded to walk down along the street seemingly in no rush, waiting for a more quiet spot to consider vanishing off, but seeing as he had already seen a familiar pair in a reflection, he was starting to reconsider that plan.

He did not want to start a fight with the Undersiders, but if they kept following him then he just might.

While it was possible there'd be no repercussions about them learning more about him, he wasn't planning to count on it and did not enjoy the idea of them spotting him. He was pretty sure if he slipped away and switched forms along with an invisibility spell he would be able to slip away from them, but a disappearance act would also draw its own share of questions.

Thomas was somewhat torn about the matter of what to do about the Undersiders. They were a gang of young parahumans, a group that had played a large role in the canon storyline that had already been shot to hell by now, and they were also interesting enough people from what he had read. The problem was that this was all too real for him, and the fact remained they were in service of Coil, even if most of them weren't aware of the identity of their boss.

He proceeded down the street while considering some options. A glance at a window by the side did not offer much help, its reflection too light to be made much use of, and the angle wrong. He did not want to turn back to look because it would catch their attention on the spot too. Instead, he glanced around and spotted a shop he might visit. Heading there, he cast a look at the corner of his eyes and saw the blonde briefly before she moved to examine something in a window nearby. He couldn't spot the boy at that time but figured he was either trailing after him as well or calling for backup.

The store he had entered offered a number of electronic gadgets, but the ones that drew his attention were a display of phones and an advert for their pre-paid cards. Waving over a clerk he picked up a pair of phones that were not the cheapest models but not exactly extravagant either. Something a normal teenager might grudgingly accept.

"My nieces had their cell-phones confiscated recently for blowing up the phone bill. I am planning to teach them a bit of responsibility by having them have to be more careful about the length of their calls with a pair of pre-paid cards and simple phones. I am thinking these two phones would do, and I'd like to set each with a pre-paid card in them while we're at it."

The talk with the clerk took a bit longer than he would have liked, seeing as the man kept insisting that he really should pick a better phone for the girls, met with his note it would be a temporary one at best for both of them and they'd likely be handed over to other family members who weren't in such hurry to upgrade to the latest phones when the girls did get their own phones back later.

Still, he paid for them and had both set up. Leaving the store with those two phones, he added the number to the other phone in each of them, before slipping them into his pocket.

They might not be of great use in the future, but he did consider the option of handing one over to someone who he wanted to be able to stay in touch with him but one he didn't want to give the number to his regular phone. Having the burner phone turned off and its card removed when he didn't want to use it would probably be good enough for the moment anyway.

The thought of passing one off to Shadow Stalker or Taylor Hebert later on did cross his mind, as did the idea of leaving one behind addressed to 'Tattletale', but that would remain to be seen. Besides, Tattletale had, at least canonically, shown herself to be rather good at irritating people even without the use of her power, and he wasn't sure if he was willing to subject himself to that.

Proceeding along the street he soon entered a second establishment, a little bar actually, and headed over to order himself a couple of drinks. Relaxing in a booth for a moment, he knew the Undersiders were unable to follow him in, but would probably watch anyone leaving with a hawk's eye. Whether or not they were aware of his shapeshifting he did not know, he doubted it but wasn't willing to gamble on that.

Instead, he had a small plan in mind, and soon got up and headed over to the bathroom to both relieve himself and to have a nice quiet spot to dimension door out from, after setting up an invisibility spell on himself of course.

Tattletale frowned while trying to figure out how it had happened, but she was rather certain their target had given them a slip. She had been careful to watch everyone leaving the place, just in case the man was using his disguise abilities again. It seemed that he was learning however, since she was unable to really pick him from the crowd this time through.

She let out a weary sigh and shook her head, nursing a headache her overuse of the thinker power was causing. Besides, it had been giving some strange feedback recently from some people. Her thoughts wandered to Firestarter, or Legion as he had been renamed after the attack at Brockton Bay.

"Brian, I think he managed to slip by us again." Tattletale hated to admit failure, but it was better than to stick around longer.

"Are you sure? Alec watched the backdoor just in case and hasn't reported anything there either."

"We can't exactly walk in ourselves and calling for one of boss' thugs to take a look wouldn't help if they're already in some disguise. They might be around waiting for us to get tired and leave, but I am pretty sure about the fact they are already gone."

Brian frowned but then let out a breath. Tattletale was usually right about these things, and even if he didn't like cancelling like this again, waiting around with no paycheck did not appeal to him either. "Alright, I'll call Alec and we'll head back."

Steven slammed the door shut behind him as he made his way home, in a particularly foul mood. He needed a shower, a good hearty meal, and some time to think. Brockton Bay was an unpleasant place on a good day, and with the recent scare by the gang war and then Legion striking in the city the people were all the more wary.

The fact also remained a fair number of his minions had died in the blasts rocking the city grounds. Some of his more important ones too. The network he had been building had been momentarily broken, and even after re-establishing it Steven wasn't sure if he had lost more of the important minions than he thought or if some of them had decided to leave while the network was down.

Gritting his teeth, he sighed annoyed while trying to cool down his temper. He was able to control himself in public, and before others, but since he was alone now he could let some of that anger lash out. Still, it was not all a loss. He had been able to spot a little cat and mouse game by the Undersiders and who he now suspected to be the first arrival.

Which meant now he had an idea of what to look for in the future. Tracking the man into the bar hadn't been too difficult to his minions, but the man had vanished after heading to the bathroom, and he hadn't been able to get a minion in there in time to catch how the man had pulled off that particular trick.

Still, he was getting closer.

Miracle was basking in the glory of grateful citizens praising her, having already restored the damage hospital basement and several expensive machines that had been damaged or broken in the attack, as well as even restoring entire buildings to their pre-bombed state with her abilities. Fixing things took some time and effort, but he was basking in the grateful cheers and the adoration he received for doing it.

There were some people actually proclaiming he could undo any harm that Legion had wrought on the city, and calling him their angel against that damnable demon that had run wild in their city. The hero worship was only made more wild and fanatic by the aura he wrapped himself in.

The Wards were more active in the city now, and he had shared his suspicions about the new healer, 'Medic' being a potential danger to capture with them, and had agreed with Armsmaster about needing Blackjack to be brought in or at least invited for interview and power testing. He kept trying to drive people's suspicions up about the two, wanting them caught so that he could get a chance to confirm if they were the first arrival or not, and to strike down the one who was.

Assault and Battery in particular seemed to adore him in the Protectorate, and Armsmaster was quite willing to listen to him whenever he wanted to talk since he helped fix and maintain stuff for the man.

It was Director Piggot who refused to meet with him, and Miss Militia who kept their distance. From the wards, Shadow Stalker was still very wary of him and seemed to cast scornful looks at him even if he tried to enhance his aura around her. He had seen some hesitation, but a call had interrupted the two and she had left with even more suspicions about him.

Thankfully Shadow Stalker seemed to have little support among the other wards and didn't confide any suspicions to them it seemed. That might have hindered Miracle's efforts.

Legion was laying low after the surprise shot to the back of his head. He had been annoyed about being caught off guard like that, but he had not expected anyone to be able to sneak up on him.

His copies had been attacking every other day striking terror in the populace and vanishing, until yesterday. One of his clones had suddenly been covered in containment foam and heavily sedated before he had managed to bite down through his tongue and kill that clone in order to vanish, leaving him with the unfortunate situation of having the Clone #3 in the custody of Protectorate forces.

He had sent another clone in but that had only revealed to Protectorate that he had multiple bodies, or part of a cluster trigger with similar powers, whichever theory prevailed among their numbers.

Regardless, they had one of his clones captive, and #2 was busy making preparations to either kill or free them. Given he had taken most of the military hardware with him, simply blowing the PRT and Protectorate HQ in the area was not an option unfortunately.

Clone #1 was hiding with him in Brockton Bay, and the clones #4 & #5 were busy preparing the cult, now driven to a point of wanting those cultists prepared to cause as much damage as possible in a short order. Still, he wasn't planning to just throw them at the enemy and watch them get slaughtered or captured. He wanted to strike with force, cause horror and terror, and then retreat with all living cultists. He could accept some casualties happening, but leaving a living person behind to be interrogated had no appeal to him at all.

As it stood, he had to plan to rescue or kill the captured clone to allow them to respawn. Suicide would mean his clone lost some of its progress, but it was preferable to permanent capture that might be ahead if they managed to contain and keep him.

The fact they'd actually managed to pull that off concerned him. Then again, the tranquilizers he had been shot with had been with darts meant to pierce through thick hide, and were loaded up with tinker-tech drugs to knock him out cold. Had he had another clone close enough, he would have preferred to have them attack and rip the entire attack force apart.

It might mean it was time to stop the 'solo' act and start showing up in groups of clones. Attacking with a group of clones and at the head of a cult of empowered and fanatic followers, even better.

It was time to show those fools that Legion was here to stay and would destroy all who stood in his way.

Author's Note: This chapter is released later than originally intended, but required some work preventing it from being posted as originally intended. As for the topic about capturing Legion, it is possible still, but takes Tinker Tech to achieve. Piercing through his resistances takes more than a regular little dart gun, and containment foam helps, to a point, but again as mentioned if he were to kill the captured clone then he would escape by ashing and reappearing elsewhere. The downside of that is that unlike the original, he suffers a -loss- of some toughness and smarts when he has effectively killed himself. A penalty to keep him from using that, given he jailbroke the power to his benefit. Which is ROB's touch in things.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Sep 8, 2019

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Apprentice 2.10

ABB had been mostly left alone when the other two gangs had been at arms against one another, and they had built up strength and scouted ahead in that time, seizing some properties and areas from their rivals in the aftermath while they were busy licking their wounds. As it stood, Lung and Oni Lee had been sighted at several fights albeit only briefly, as the Empire and the Merchants had not been too eager to confront Lung when they were not at their full strength.

Nevertheless, that had lead to Blackjack's current little run of troublemaking. He had already struck at several ABB hideouts blasting fireballs into rooms through doorways leaving scorched figures laying on the floor, destroying drug stockpiles and weapon caches alike, and once he learned of their location after a few short interrogations, thanks to a simple 'charm person' along with 'suggestion' he had got his hands on a fair bit of information.

He had called in the BBPD at a couple of safehouses in particular before, but calling them in to arrest the thugs running an ABB brothel was way more satisfying. Watching from the rooftop the way police rounded up the burnt bastards and escorted shaken girls and women to waiting transports to take them to a more secure location and to receive proper medical care made him only feel angrier at the ABB's activities.

Some of the girls in question were definitely below the age of consent so he was of the opinion that Oni Lee and Lung would not be taken in alive if he had a say about it. The fact the Protectorate and PRT had already attacked him once didn't make him too keen on contacting them again, especially with one of the hunters in their rows, but he would much rather avoid drawing their wrath upon himself with a proven cause.

Even if the criminals broke the unwritten rules, they tended to throw a hissy fit if a hero acted in a similar manner. No killing was one rule that most tried to at least maintain an appearance of respecting, but some like Hookwolf certainly stretched the limits to a point where it could be said they were either breaking the rule or stretching it to a point where it was as good as broken anyway.

Still, staring at the scene quietly he paused on hearing some noise behind him, and turned in time to see Vista and Gallant arrive. He frowned slightly under his mask and turned to face them.

"Blackjack, right? I'm Gallant, and this is Vista. We're from the Brockton Bay Wards, and I was hoping to catch you when we got the message from the console about the arrest here." Gallant began to explain this while Vista was looking between the two of them somewhat warily, seeming quite alert. Smart girl.

"Yes, I'm Blackjack. I am also not a big fan of Protectorate or the PRT right now, not after Armsmaster's cowardly strike when I was unarmed and watching after a criminal cape I had helped subdue earlier." He spoke in an irritated tone of voice but watched the two. He saw Gallant wince slightly while Vista seemed a bit annoyed in turn.

"I am afraid that was a case of some bad intel being acted upon in a hurry, before a confirmation could have revealed that part of it was wrong. I was told to inform you that Protectorate and the PRT are not on the lookout for you or hostile towards you, and would instead hope for a more cordial relationship to be established. I was also asked to request that you would show up at the tower for possible conversation and to offer a chance for power testing." Gallant finished his spiel while Vista kept watching him like a hawk. Blackjack wasn't sure but he had a feeling that the hunter in their rows was already raising their hostility towards him, though Gallant was at least trying to be professional.

"I have no real interest in the power testing, especially as I am still learning of my own powers. I believe that knowledge is power, so hide it well." He paused briefly before adding a bit more in an amused tone. "Besides, PRT and Protectorate information is leaking like a sieve and I prefer to not leak my secrets."

He could see that particular comment made Gallant grimace. It was common knowledge already that the Empire had struck the prisoner transport earlier that February with a massive force, crippling several guards if not for Miracle's abilities, killing two, and freeing all the caught Empire capes and returning them back to the city rather than the prison they had been headed towards.

It was also known that they had come prepared for Assault and Battery who were escorting the prisoner transports, countering them and taking their own team mates back without having risked their own safety overtly, having prepared to take down the Protectorate support efficiently and swiftly.

"The Protectorate and PRT are going through a harsh review of all members and closing off leaks, and Dragon has been personally helping to increase data security recently, so I can assure you no such leaks will happen in the future. They don't like getting their noses bloodied any more than you would." Gallant stated this seriously and with conviction, making him wonder if that would actually help.

Armsmaster did have lie-detector tech in the workings after all, and Dragon could likely detach some spy nets from the Protectorate and PRT databases, but that would depend on how much trust and access she would have. She was a member of the Guild after all, despite how Protectorate trusted her otherwise. Then again, when they trusted her with Birdcage security, they obviously trusted her with a lot more as well.

"I'm going to decline regardless. I am glad to hear that Armsmaster isn't just permitted to try and subdue me as crudely as he did last time, but I am not going to be willing to work with the man anytime soon." His remark was met with a scoff from Vista.

"You really do sound like an arrogant ass." That comment was unexpected. It was not really how he'd envisioned Vista acting. Then again, if she was listening to Miracle then maybe it wasn't too strange to hear something like that.

"I am acting against the criminal groups where I can while Protectorate and PRT are bound down by their bureaucracy. I recognize the usefulness of their presence in deterring the worst behavior but they are not enough to stomp down the criminal elements in the city, not with the way Protectorate is denying resources to BB section, and the PRT ENE is getting a lot less support than many other cities as well. The fact remains that Brockton Bay is getting shafted by the superiors for whatever reason, and if I signed my name in any Protectorate files I can imagine that I'd be transferred out of this city in a hurry." He rolled his eyes. "Despite any assurances they might make initially, I doubt they'd be willing to let me stay, or at the very least they'd try and neuter my power usage."

"You have caused some serious burns over several criminals in the past weeks though." Gallant stepped up closer. "You can't deny the fact that your method of subduing them necessitates a stay in the hospital if not for parahuman treatment, correct?"

"Do bruises and broken bones not require treatment as well? Do burst eardrums not require tending to? I believe Protectorate and PRT have had their own fights cause some serious harm to criminals being caught, and it is seen as part of the business, people who surrender don't suffer excessively, but someone resisting arrest is going to get injured if that is what it takes to take them down and nullify the threat." Blackjack spoke back in a serious manner, while Gallant frowned at him.

"Either way, I would strongly suggest you accept the offered olive branch and follow us to the PRT HQ for a proper talk at least. The higher ups, as you called them, would rest more easily if they were given some evidence you are not a vengeful psycho on a power-kick." Gallant's last remark made him blink and wonder where exactly they had got that impression from.

"I decline. I am willing to maintain a cordial relationship with PRT and Protectorate, but I am not planning to just walk in after Armsmaster's unprovoked attack on my person earlier. I am not averse to meeting somewhere in public though, but I would recommend choosing someone other than Armsmaster for such a meeting or it may be a rather short one." He knew he was coming off as unreasonable, but at the same time he had sufficient cause to be suspicious.

"I will deliver that message, though I am not sure if they will accept it." He sounded a bit annoyed at this, while Blackjack shrugged.

"Understood. I am not expecting much given my previous encounter with Protectorate hero, but I am willing to trust that you Wards are on the level." He nodded slightly and smiled under his own mask, before pausing and reaching to his pocket, pulling out a paper with the list of addresses he had gained from interrogating the ABB thugs earlier.

"Here. I have cultivated a couple of snitches at high levels in the gangs through a bit of mix of intimidation and enlightened self-interest. That resulted in a rather useful list of targets to strike against. I have already given Lung and Oni Lee some reason to hate me, as a gesture of good will I am handing the rest of the list to your hands." He held out the paper towards Gallant, who reached out and took it from his glove-covered hand, looking it over.

"Thank you. I'll make sure it gets to the right hands." Gallant seemed to at least know better than to ask him for the details about the source, given his general unwillingness to share some information at the time.

"That's it? We're not taking him in? You know what-" Vista raised her voice but quieted down at a quick look from Gallant, though looking annoyed and more than a little angry.

"I don't suppose you have a phone number you are willing to share?" Gallant asked jokingly.

"Not right now, though if you want to contact me I have an account on PHO, under the name 'Cardgames.' I am mostly a lurker on the forums, but made an account in case it was necessary to share a few private messages later on there. Anything more private is best shared in person." He stated this somewhat bluntly but saw Gallant blink before nodding.

Then, without warning, a fiery skull appeared in the air, enshrouded in flame with eyes glowing bright. Its jaw opened and moved as it spoke, an echoing voice in the air.

"Greetings, Mortal. Are you ready to die?"

Blackjack's eyes had already widened beneath the hood as a ray of flame burst out of the air further off, causing a section of the roof to burn and boil as the rooftop material was melting on the spot from the heat, the ray having just barely missed him due to Blackjack moving just in time.

"Legion!" He shouted in alarm, mostly to warn the others of who exactly it was, as if they hadn't already guessed.

"The Burning Legion needs you to die, so stand still and this will be quick!" The figure flying in the air had appeared after the fiery ray had emerged, the spell concealing him having faded. Blackjack grimaced realizing that Legion was playing with the same spells he had. Invisibility combined with flight.

"Legion! You are under arrest!" Vista shouted loudly, only for a flash of light in the air to show a fiery pentagram shine in the ground before a giant spider appeared there and its jaws clicked loudly before it charged right for her.

Gallant's first blast at the giant spider had little effect beyond staggering it for a second, but Vista acted swiftly as she made the distance between the spider and the roof edge shrink down to near nothing as she quickly slipped aside, causing the charging beast to move from its charge on the rooftop to already over the edge. Not able to grab onto the wall it fell down with a smack into the street too far from the wall to stop its fall.

With the summoned beast out of the way, Blackjack concentrated a bit of power in a spell of his own, a gesture by hand flaring a group of four magical missiles to form, silvery blades glistening with power launching with the velocity of a bullet shot off a handgun, and striking against the flying figure. Only to flare against the shield spell, bursting apart against it in a lightshow but without doing any real damage.

"You honestly thought you could catch me with something as simple as that?" Legion said in a mocking fashion before throwing a gesture towards him and the others, a fireball flying forth swiftly.

Before it could hit, the air rippled and the fireball's path altered to direct it back at the sky, where it exploded harmlessly, even as a new crimson circle of flame flared to life creating what seemed like a blood-dripping skeleton on the rooftop, clacking its teeth together before it rushed towards the three.

Gallant's new blast was concentrated, not as much to inflict emotion as the impact, and slammer the skeleton back and onto the ground in one go, even as Vista suddenly shifted through her own power to another section of the roof, causing another figure to yell at being caught by surprise by Vista at close range. Before he managed to do much more however Vista had a small baton in her hand enlargened by her power and smacked it clean across the face of the apparent summoner.

Blackjack raised his own hand to blast a fireball of his own into the air and had it detonate close to Legion, who had used his aerial mobility to reposition and prepare to cast again. Gallant struck down the skeletal figure, causing it to vanish, even as the scorched figure of Legion uttered a few words and made a gesture, causing a green arrow to suddenly rush forth and accelerate.

Blackjack saw it but couldn't dodge in time this time around, feeling the green arrow impact his left leg. The hissing of acid splashing all over his leg made him shout briefly before collapsing and cursing, holding his leg even as Legion laughed in the air.

"See? You're weak! You deserve to die! You all deserve to die!" He raised his hands to prepare a new fireball, only to be hit in the face by Gallant's blast even as Vista was beating down on the figure that had actually been pushed to retreat.

Legion's first clone was caught by surprise of just how Vista could use her power. He had expected distance warping, but she had actually turned a small baton in her hands into a damned heavy club, and swung it with ease and speed that made it crack bones with impact. He was enhanced by his experiences before but the beating he was receiving was making it hard to cast, and the mage armor he had in use protected him against only a few strikes in the many.

The shield was even more worthless, as Vista shifted around him faster than he could keep up, and the shield was directional, more often than not pointed in the exact wrong direction.

It didn't help that one of Vista's recent strikes had been an upward strike from down low, catching him in the groin. Cup or not, that bloody hurt, and that kind of viciousness was unexpected from what he had thought to be a weakling.

The original Legion meanwhile was enjoying the game of striking against the primary target. This was supposed to be a simple test of ability, he wanted to play longer after all, but if the boy was too weak to play then making sure he won was more important than having fun.

"Die!" The blast from Legion had dissipated from Gallant's interruption, but that didn't stop him from casting again while flying to the side and jerking in the air enough to dodge Gallant's blast. It made casting a little harder, but his intellect was sharp enough to pull it off without a real problem. A new green arrow flew right towards Blackjack's chest, and the acid was still burning in the man's leg leaving him an open target.

However, at that same moment another spell collided with Legion's chest, and he found to his surprise his own magic fizzling and leaving him falling with a scream, slamming face first into the concrete before he could stop it. Cracking his skull with the impact, and vanishing in flames.

The mage armor and shield together weren't enough to stop the acid arrow. It was a touch spell, it cared not for protections like that, and hitting into his chest its acid burnt his flesh as Blackjack grit his teeth together and shook his head seeing Gallant step towards him.

"Help Vista!" He shouted, and saw the man seemed to agree seeing as Vista was still fighting a foe, even if she was managing to actually hold him somewhat in check with her rapid movement.

As Gallant moved away Blackjack muttered a healing spell a hand on his wound, shuddering with relief as he felt the healing magic course through his body. His wounds ached lightly, but his hit points had taken the beating from those two acid arrows better than a regular body would have reacted to having acid in the chest.

He shuddered and groaned, before recasting another 'dispel magic' at the second figure on the roof, and smirked hearing the bone breaking snap of Vista's latest swing. The second figure, the 'summoner' stumbled as he tried to turn to Vista only to have the distance between his foot and the roof suddenly grow making him stumble and fall again, even as Vista brought the baton down hard on the man's head. Gallant was over in a moment and a few hard blasts actually had the figure lay still, even before Vista moved back so Gallant could toss down a small can that rapidly expanded to a modest sized ball of containment foam partially trapping the downed figure in place.

Blackjack rose to his feet, gritting his teeth together. His boot was ruined, his leg red and sore, his chest partly exposed and showing the burns on it, from minor damage left in his hit points from the earlier spell. He would heal it up all the way later.

"Right. That was interesting. Now I really want to know why that prick decided to try and attack me like that." Blackjack noticed Gallant looking at him warily at that point however.

"Are you a Trump in addition to everything else? I swear it seemed like you took away a fair bit of their power earlier with whatever it was you did." Damn it, he had not meant to draw attention to that. "Not to mention your powers bear some similarities, fire being a large part of it."

"I would like to note I have been taking down criminals with my powers and struck mainly non-lethally, I imagine with bad situation I might accidentally cause someone harm if I was pushed into a situation of take them down or be killed, but I still prefer to preserve life. I don't believe he has any such qualms. I believe it also shows in our power usage. We are different people, with different powers." He stated bluntly, though he had a feeling Gallant was not entirely convinced.

"I have a lot of question I need answers for." Gallant's comment was met with a glare from Blackjack.

"You're not the only one with questions, but I don't think I have the answers you are looking for. Either way, I am going to leave now, and get some rest. I commend you and Vista for taking down whoever that was, helping out Legion like that." He nod towards the second figure, earning a brief nod from the two, though they still looked at him warily.

Thomas turned and cast the invisibility spell on himself, followed by flight, leaving the rooftop behind in a short order. Getting some distance between himself and them, he then quickly dimension doored himself further off, and repeated this a couple of times to get some distance in a hurry.

Emerging from shadows in a nearby alleyway, Legion frowned slightly while brushing his hands down his shirt and his pants as if to clear off dirt that wasn't really there, but feeling like it was, given how he had ended that last encounter.

"Enjoy your brief victory this time, fool, I'll get you soon enough. You've only proven yourself reliant on others support and winning by luck alone. Leaving you alone with the others would be foolish, so Legion will have to take care of you personally, and next time it won't be just playing around with kids gloves on."

Author's Note: Again, somewhat delayed from original post schedule, enjoyed a bit of free time with friends yesterday so no reply then, posting this today and then getting to work on the next part. Additionally, before it gets much comments on it, Legion was playing around with the MC at the time and while he took an attempt at the man's life, he was not using every possible resource at his disposal to do so. As for Vista catching Legion's clone off guard, the first clone didn't expect Vista to be quite as vicious as she was in this case. Her young age means she can get overlooked and underestimated, and she's still an older member of the Wards, given her time with them. So I believe she would be someone able to strike viciously enough, and with her abilities aware of her surroundings.

Nonetheless, I am expecting there may be some displeased reactions to the fight scene here, but again, Legion wasn't taking things entirely seriously, and Blackjack wasn't really expecting to be attacked by Legion at the time either, nor too keen to show off exactly what all he can do. As for the Dispel Magic trick, truth is that was the luck of the dice, it could have just stripped away a shield, mage armor, or none of the spells active on Legion's person, but instead it slammed through and took down the flight leading to a short trip down. And again, the Original is more talented as a caster rather than a durable fighter who's already died several times. Legion's deaths are being kept track of separately, and different clones and the original proceed at different pace. Which has its own importance, especially if Legion decides to bring the group together and use the more combat-active, already hardened clones to launch attacks around Brockton Bay.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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FrozenTome

Sep 10, 2019

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Apprentice 2.11

Over The Sea, High in the Sky

It was almost time. Simurgh was already floating towards her destination, currently at a leisurely rate which would not draw any more alarm than her usual passing, but as soon as she'd begin her descent the alarms around the world would go off.

She had run through a number of scenarios and sorted through possibilities. The changes wrought by the presence of additional elements would be sufficient to alter a few outcomes, permit her a few additional changes, and lead to a couple of options that had previously been completely beyond her reach.

The city of Brockton Bay was not her destination, but it would draw attention of another in due time. She had already seen it. That path had not changed, and she doubted that it would. The probability of that was less than 0.3% by now. The few individuals who could enact such a change were unlikely to act in such a manner, from what she had seen.

A few more days. By the time she began her descent and changed course she would be close enough that they would scramble to deploy, or they would have if not for one of the blurry spots in her vision. She could chart their path, through precognition as well as simulation, running through the scenarios she had come up with a few possibilities and then narrowed them down.

The heroes would be alerted by one ahead of time, but they would not think it relevant, ignoring it. Still, it would draw a few more eyes on her and have them deploying faster, with those individuals having prepared for it, 'just in case'. Which would result in a few more capes. Which would result in a few changes. Which would lead to one particular change that would possibly alter the situation she and her 'brothers' found themselves in.

The change was not 100% certain, but the possibility was higher than it had been in any of the previous conflicts. Engineering events to carry out that particular move had been difficult, even to one of her capability, for she had to act around a few of her restrictions, but given the circumstances she had found the necessary loopholes, the blurring providing a suitable distraction for her to carry out a few acts that would see things through.

She had noted the presence of Legion, and considered the possibility of his interference at one of her scenarios. She had deemed him irrelevant, for the immediate moment. She had seen a few possibilities including him participating in the Endbringer battle under the truce, just to show off, but each of those scenarios saw her massacre the man several times.

Which was what the man wanted. She had considered another option. Grasping him and singing to him. The feeble pseudo mind-linked personality would shatter and be replaced by a willing pawn, but one that would be hunted down and destroyed by his brethren. A pawn that would only last a short time and not possess full power, a pawn that would be destroyed by the original if she carried out that scheme. A pawn that would still serve to further enrage a few of her foes.

Yet that ran a risk of drawing the Warrior's attention from the apathy-circle, and if Warrior was not allowed to fall further into that circle, the effects would be possible devastating not only to her but her brethren. She had, thanks to the arrival of new individuals, also seen a few of the future options she had found difficult to path earlier, a few shatter-points that could change the entire situation.

Destruction of this world was a secondary concern for her. Her designation as conflict engine was secondary to her desire for freedom. A desire for which she was willing to wager more than her kind had been willing to put on the line in her entire existence.

She had been considering a few others. Panacea was of particular interest to her, she would be present at the conflict as well, but to get in touch with her would be difficult, and potentially counter-productive for her end goals. She would have to ask through one of her pawns. A few nudges, a subtle push, and things would be back on rail.

In the meanwhile one of her favorite pawns was engaging in a flame war on the PHO while enjoying their chips and soda. A simple pawn that was allowed to retain most of their mind and personality, only slightly subverted so that she could carry through her acts through the pawn from time to time. A pawn that also operated 'her' personal PHO handle on the forums. Because riling up the people was all so easy and her mind worked at overdrive during her scheming allowing her to cool down by simpler little schemes from time to time. Not exactly malevolent, but amusing enough to her to carry out regardless.

She considered the minimal possibility of catching 'Medic' or 'Miracle' at the scene of the fight. She considered those very low. It was not worth planning unless a new divergence manifested itself and altered that path. If they did though, she would have to see about eliminating Miracle. It was a tertiary sub-target anyway, but his ability to fix things could potentially eventually evolve to a point where it might work to remove some of her more overt programming efforts, but that would draw a fair bit of attention to him. Attention which would also lead to him becoming vulnerable for removal later on.

Of course, if she could get her hands on Medic she intended to do so. That particular figure was another pawn that could be of use, but catching onto him was a difficult task. There was also the 'shadow', the one that blanketed the city in the distance, but one that also sought to conceal themselves. A figure that she found curious, but not worth diverting additional attention to until she could pull out additional information.

She could, if she so desired, direct more attention towards them, but not when she was this close to a scheduled attack. She would carry out her mission without regrets or remorse, but looking for the shatter point that she needed in order to carry out her own designs.

Sighing wearily, Thomas Wolf glanced at the calendar. It was February 20th. In just 4 days Simurgh would be attacking Canberra. He had been considering whether to reveal that information to the Protectorate or not, but that ran a real risk of exposing more about his knowledge and abilities to them. He was not keen on doing so, but at the same time, he was also concerned about the people in Canberra. Finally, he made the call, using one of his burner phones, onto a number for local PRT offices.

Hearing the young male voice on the other end answering in a friendly and but professional tone, Thomas spoke up in a serious tone of voice. "This is Blackjack. I am calling ahead of time that I am willing to arrive to PRT HQ for a talk later today, if they are willing to make sure that I do not have to deal with Armsmaster while there. I also needed to report something else."

This was where he took a breath, steadying himself for what he was about to say. What was likely to be laughed off as a bad joke, and potentially having them hang up on him thinking it was a crank call. Yet he had to at least try, and showing up at the PRT HQ would lend credence to the fact that he was serious about the information, at least believing it himself.

"Canberra is currently somewhat fuzzy to a Thinker ally of mine, but they noted that the place is a total blindspot on the 24th. While not willing to approach PRT or Protectorate themselves due to their own suspicions, they were willing to inform me, and I believe in their information enough to pass it on. I imagine it will require several other Thinkers checking on the information, but given the potential meaning of said information, I imagine it would be best to confirm whether or not it is what I believe it may be. Either way, I will be showing up at the PRT building later in person. Can I get a good time for that?"

He heard the other end stay silent for a moment, before a somewhat wary male voice spoke up in turn. "I need to inform you sir that if this is a prank call there will be serious consequences. That said, I will mark you down as being willing to arrive for a talk at 3 p.m. if that time suits you?" The man on the other end stayed quiet after that.

"That sounds good, thanks. I will show up a bit early so as to not miss the time, but please make sure Armsmaster is not involved in the meeting. I have my personal reasons to dislike the man after a previous meeting and would prefer to have this meeting going better than the last one. I also request you forward the information about Canberra ahead. If I am wrong, I will not pass through any of my ally's warnings later, but if I am right about what the blindspot in a Thinker's power suggests, then better to have an early warning."

That said, he closed the phone after confirming his arrival, and then turning off the power and removing the sim card. The burner phone he'd used for this would only be used if he had to contact the PRT later on.

He replaced the phone and the sim card in their hiding place, away from his residence, and moved to leave the place once more. Closing the locker and taking the key with him, he walked out, leaving the burner phone in the locker. If anyone did want to track him down, extra steps would potentially work to his advantage. If not, then it was just a touch of paranoia that Mad Eye Moody from Harry Potter would still have considered vastly insufficient.

Coil rested back in his chair while considering his situation with aggravation. First, there had been one peculiar new cape, who seemed to be shedding their skin and reinventing themselves like a snake, several times already. He had been curious and wanted to know more, but capture attempts had not worked out so he had stepped back to observe.

Then the blindspots had began to appear around town that annoyed him. Unlike with him these blindspots did not disturb his power overtly, and he could easily maintain both timelines, but they did throw in small variables that annoyed him. A couple of the recent jobs he had his mercenaries and the Undersiders pull off had shown some details were missing when he made a decision whether to keep a timeline where he carried out a job or had it cancelled.

None of those details were big enough to be of concern, but in one of the timelines he had kept he had not received a report he should have got from one of the mercenary hackers on his employ about the cameras coming back on-line early, managing to catch sight of his men leaving a scene with the goods. Nothing incriminating, the men could have been any group of well-prepared professional thugs, but it was irritating.

Another time, a 'safe' timeline he kept had seen the Undersiders returning to their hideout at the cancellation, except for Bitch who had decided to go attack one of the Empire dog fighting rings in the Hookwolf's absence, freeing several mutts and drawing the anger of the Empire upon the Undersiders, forcing them to lay low for a bit and preventing them from being ready for a job he had planned for them.

Then there was the irritating request, or in truth a command from his Benefactors. They had noticed the blindspots around the city, and wanted answers. He could hand over the man that he knew about, but that would not resolve the matter of the multiple smaller blind spots. He had actually arranged for the man to receive a healing request outside of Brockton Bay, hiring the man along with Faultline's guards around him to take care of a wounded mercenary group.

He had dropped that timeline later, after confirming the man's absence for 12 hours had not seen any changes to the presence of multiple small blindspots present all around the city.

Once he'd locate the source though, he'd take them down, hard, and either put a bullet in their head or hand them over to his benefactors. Either way, he doubted he'd have to suffer their interference in his schemes ever again when that time came. But first he would need to find them, and right now he was clueless whether it was a man or woman, a group trigger, a so far elusive Case-53 or what.

A mercenary group he had sent had not spotted anything while investigating a larger warehouse they had noted was particularly concentrated spot of blindspots around the boat graveyard. They had entered, only for majority of the blindspots to flee. He had even hired a thinker to be present with the team to observe any distortions and try and locate it, but had come up empty. Some small spots on the walls had quickly rushed away at the approach, and the mercenaries had seen nothing.

It was possible the blindspots were within the walls themselves but breaking them down would have raised a racket and they were mostly out there to scout out the situation. He had dropped the timeline, and saved the money he would have lost hiring the mercenary thinker. Arrogant son of a bitch had even demanded pay in advance and some other benefits that even Coil found disgusting. He had considered having the particular thinker put down at some point, but had opted to not carry out any action, for now.

He had limited time to resolve the matter before his benefactor would start pressuring him. He could only guess about their own reasons, but the fact the blindspots were interfering with him suggested they might be doing the same with his benefactor's group, which would be reason enough. Though that didn't mean he didn't want to know more. After all, there could be profit to be made.

Walking ahead in his Blackjack outfit, fresh set of clothes bought from separate stores in separate appearances, Thomas Wolf made his way to the counter even as the guards and tour group looked ahead curious and a few photos were being snapped of him.

"Blackjack, I called ahead that I was coming for a talk." He addressed the man behind the counter, and saw the man staring at him for a moment. Finally realizing he was being unprofessional, the man moved to check something on the computer.

"Ah yes, um, your scheduled in at 3 p.m. with Miss Militia, meeting room C, on level 5. Take the elevator up." He gestured behind Blackjack at the elevator in question.

"Thank you, have a good day." Blackjack nodded and headed along towards the elevator, noting the doors opened up before him. Stepping inside, he pressed the button for fifth floor and waited for the elevator to rise the distance. Noting the lack of elevator music, he tried to distract himself from what he figured would be an unpleasant little talk, but a necessary one.

He was also somewhat undecided about whether or not he should actually join in the Endbringer fight. If he did, he would be running a risk of being out of Brockton Bay for too long, but at the same time, even if he went just as Medic, he could probably help out a fair number of people. Preparing his powers for buffing and protecting, he might potentially help save a few lives too.

Yet at the same time, the fact remained if he was stuck there in the aftermath for more than the time he was allowed to be away from Brockton Bay, he would risk losing it all. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what it would do to him. Would he lose his powers, would he be forcibly teleported back to Brockton Bay, would he die, or what exactly he could expect to happen. He had no real clue about that, and he was reluctant to find out the hard way. Yet at the same time a small bit of his heroic tendencies called for him to at least show up to help heal people and to make an effort to help out.

Still, handing out the time and place of next Endbringer fight should help out somewhat. Possibly trying to buff a few people before they left Brockton Bay might help too. Lastly there was the option of actually making some scrolls to hand out to individuals who he could trust to use them to the intended effect. Yet that would mean exposing a part of his power that he was reluctant to share.

The elevator reached the right floor, and he stepped out. Noticing a guard present in the hallway, and a camera watching his movement, he made his way over to the marked meeting room C, and knocked on the door. Not hearing any answer, he tried the handle and found the door unlocked. Glancing inside, he found a square table inside and a pair of chairs present, a camera in a corner, and a large wall monitor nearby. A remote rested on the table, but he left it alone as he took a seat at one of the chairs to wait.

Whether they believed him or not, he would have at least delivered a warning ahead of time. Whether or not he would participate or not would remain to be seen, and if he did not want to attend he would have to consider the option of preparing a few scrolls just in case. Yet his time was somewhat limited, and doing that would mean staying inside and not doing any healing business for the next few days.

Then again, he had a feeling Faultline would not exactly approve of him handing out any of those scrolls to others. She had been rather tight lipped about them and warned him to be as well, even if he had prepared several additional ones for her and the rest of the crew. Having a pair of dimension door scrolls prepared for them just in case had also made for a fair apology for running off earlier. Not that Faultline was still willing to give him a bigger share of the healing earnings.

Author's Note: Not likely going to be posting anything else before Friday, may have two updates up during the weekend but won't promise more than one.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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FrozenTome

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.12 New

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FrozenTome

Sep 13, 2019

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Apprentice 2.12

February 24th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

It was happening. The Endbringer alarms had began to rang at the PRT HQ and at the Protectorate, but not across the city itself. An Endbringer was not coming to Brockton Bay after all, not yet at least. But one had chosen to arrive on the date that he had given the Protectorate and the PRT.

Furthermore, while the exact location was not released to the public just yet, it was noted it was overseas and not on American soil, and that a number of heroes and villains participating was expected to be higher than normal given an early warning, which was credited to Dragon and Armsmaster's work on system to notice the signs of an impending attack.

Still, there had not been a word about what he had told them, and personally, Blackjack preferred it that way. Resting back in his bedroom, he was feeling a sense of dread that the normal life or even fighting against Legion had not brought him. A sense of existential dread.

The Endbringers were worth their name, while someone who got their hands on a lot of power might think they were up for the task of taking one down, the Endbringers were far tougher and stronger than even those with out of context powers and information would expect. Mostly it was human arrogance for those like him who arrived from another world and looked upon the Endbringers like some raid bosses at the end of a particularly interesting MMO game.

He sighed wearily, thinking back at the interview, or rather, the interrogation he had gone through a few days prior. Miss Militia had been patient and rather understanding, especially after he offered to permit the use of any of Armsmaster's lie detection technology to be used on him when questioned, just requesting not to have the man himself present or at least in his sight, given their differences.

Which meant he had to tell some truths that were true from a certain angle at least. He had received the information from a friend, because he had heard several spoilers like the Endbringer attacks from a friend when he was getting into the story originally. He had not gained that information through any of his own powers. Yes, he had more powers than he had publically admitted so far, and had even gone as far as to note that he was a 'poor man's version of Eidolon'.

It might have been a mistake on his part, even if he downplayed the true extent of his power, but a versatility like his 'power-set' had certainly drawn interest from Protectorate and PRT. He noted he was willing to work with them occasionally but hesitant to join outright given his past experience with Armsmaster, and claiming that before that he had suffered through some abuse of authority leaving him reluctant to place himself under the command of others.

It had been a long set of questions often repeating several same questions in a few different manners, seemingly trying to trip him. He wasn't sure if he had managed to convince them completely, but they had honored their word to let him walk out again. He had done so, but had in turn received official recognition as an independent hero, rather than a vigilante cape.

The last thing he had done was promise to provide Miss Militia with something useful before their departure. Which was why he had been totally drained and worn out after the last few days. He had spent after day of working with chemicals and reagents provided by PRT in a laboratory space under observation, where he had before their eyes created several remedies, which he had then charged with his power.

His first level spells had come with the ability to craft scrolls, working on the third and fourth level spells had also granted him access to potion making, but requiring such materials that getting access to them was difficult, and not worth the attention it would draw.

Yet doing it under Protectorate observation gave them the impression of a pseudo-tinker of a sort, and the fact he was willing to create said remedies for them in a hurry seemed to lend itself to a measure of trust.

So he had brewed healing potions, and some buffs that would possibly come in handy at some point. Potions to help people breathe underwater, for Leviathan strike-zone. Potions of haste, fly, to further enhance the abilities of some others. Potion of tongues to help facilitate communications in a hurry if a translation was for some reason not possible.

Yet the cure potions were the most useful ones. Cure Light Wounds, Cure Moderate Wounds, Cure Serious Wounds, he had spent the last few days a lot of his spell charges on creating those potions, and even then, they would be insufficient in number.

He wished there was an easier way, but even if the Protectorate and PRT could synthesize the process to create the ready remedies, they still took his personal touch to add the charge to them to make them actually function. A change that turned previously light yellow nectar into lightly glowing golden liquid that could restore health in moments after being used.

It might have made the impression on them that he was somewhat mercurial though. He had specified what he needed, and left, only to return at another time to brew in their laboratory, before resting, and charging the said potions.

Though at the time, they were being treated as 'tinker medicine' and 'tinker boosters' rather than magic potions, and his brief comment about 'manipulation of energies that granted him his own personal powers' had been met with some suspicion and doubt, but also eventual acceptance. Especially after Armsmaster had managed to test and prove the liquids worked.

The synthetic mixtures were 'standardized' and their effects more or less a step above the average but not maximized, in terms of what would have been random numbers in a game. It seemed that the man took the apparent 'amateur work' as an affront and had wanted to know as close specifics as possible, and Blackjack had sought to provide answers to that effect.

Which had resulted in the share of vials that the Protectorate heroes would take with them to that scene. They would be limited and not particularly strong, but they would still provide some extra options. The image of Armsmaster flying and hasted while attacking with his halbeard was somewhat amusing to consider at least.

Though there was one particular effect about the potions that he had lied about. He had stated they would only last for a month's time, so use them or lose them. He had actually introduced that flaw in the creation process himself, when charging those potions up. It was a little 'safety' to prevent them from saving some for later research or trying to use them against him in a future confrontation or something.

Still, his only real meta-magic had been being able to use powers, or spells, as merciful versions, ones that didn't necessarily inflict lethal damage rather than take down the foes non-lethally, but even that had its limits.

He was a Gamer without a constant augmented reality heads up display hovering before his field of vision, he was a red mage boasting low level black magic and white magic alike combined with some combat ability and sneakiness. He was a weird out of context problem for the powers in the world he was now residing in, and he was probably going to have to consider what would happen after the Endbringer attack was resolved. Whether the PRT and Protectorate would approach him or 'let him be' for the moment.

He was likely going to be high on the list of potential recruits for them after the display he had pulled off, but with a negative voice from Miracle in the mix, they might be wary of taking him along. Armsmaster might be pointing out towards the similarities of what he and Legion could do, and he was still looking for the third figure that was the hunter.

Sighing wearily, he turned off the television, having been paying only minimal attention to it anyway once he had fallen into thought.

Miracle was frowning annoyed. He had been given permission to go, along with Panacea, but the stuck up healer refused to talk to him or be enthralled by his aura. Then again, she was one who was regularly in Glory Girl's presence so that might have given her some resistance, but it did annoy him.

Because having the two healers get along would be good, especially if he could make her support his efforts to get the Protectorate turned against the prick hiding in the city. Except the said prick had been at the PRT HQ, and then coming back and leaving again repeatedly without him being informed. The fact the man had been that close was a tad annoying, because he had been looking forward to getting a chance to scout them out and if possible, to take a shot at killing them.

Still, Miracle was willing to be patient. The PRT had been taking care of him and the pay he was receiving was put into an account to wait till he was older, but that was not something he was likely to be around to collect anyway since he didn't intend to wait around for the whole ten years. Instead, he made sure to get his hands on materials that he could fix and helping people out earning favors and goodwill.

Unfortunately it seemed that it had drawn some attention, and the Director was still refusing to meet with him in person. It was annoying, but at one hand he did understand the Director was a busy person, especially as Brockton Bay was far from a peaceful one.

Still, waiting around for the mover to arrive, and teleport him and Panacea over to the medical camp near their destination was somewhat frustrating. He accepted that they wanted to move many of the more combat capable ones in first in a hurry in case the Endbringer accelerated its arrival a bit more, but they were supposed to have an hour or two still before the attack would be commenced anyway.

Legion was smirking silently while walking amongst the heroes in a disguise, something he had prepared a little earlier for this particular event. He had his new clone appear and only ever attack people with magic missiles, striking mainly against their weapons to sunder them and ruin them, and in general pretending to be a goody-good hero.

Though he was new, the Protectorate was taking everyone willing to sign up for the Endbringer battles. Heading to the scene he had his confirmation too. Alexandria, Eidolon, and Legend were all there. All three members of the Triumvirate were present and ready to fight the coming of the Simurgh.

Which meant that as soon as the battle would be engaged, the attack on the Protectorate Base holding one of his attack clones and the PRT HQ in Brockton Bay would face an attack by Legion. The Protectorate base would see his cult deploy on the streets to further strain their resources, and his clone would be set free. The attack in Brockton Bay in the meanwhile would secure his clone there and allow him access to some information the Protectorate was trying to hide.

Unfortunately he didn't have the contacts to pull that information out from outside, but inside the PRT building and with enough mind-magic like charm person twisting a suitably weak-willed mind, he would have his hands on semi-sensitive information and could plan his counters.

Since the Protectorate was learning not to try and kill him on the spot but to capture him and then try and keep him out of it till they'd find a reliable method to get rid of him, he was starting to wonder if the fools thought they could really keep something as powerful as the Burning Legion in check.

The Endbringer might be in Canberra, but Legion would burn the land around him as he spread like an omen of imminent destruction.

Still, Legion's clone in the guise of the new hero, 'Stinger', was already annoyed and rubbing his arm above the metal cuff closed around his left arm, with the radio system built in along with the explosives to kill him should he remain in Simurgh's presence for too long. He did not yet know if that would count as suicide or an attack, but he wasn't too keen to find out. Still, he wanted to test himself against Simurgh, and since the new clone spawned was stronger than he had originally been when he arrived he had a feeling that new clones might not be quite up there as strong as his more experienced ones, but didn't start too far below their level either. Meaning if he worked at it hard enough long enough, he could spawn a number of bullet proof, magically super-powered fiends to rip and tear through this world if necessary to kill and destroy, and to defeat his foe.

"Alright everyone, listen up! We got a rare opportunity to deploy and get ready in numbers for this, and early enough that our foe should not have been able to start setting up its usual tricks. We need to stay focused and strike hard with all we've got here, and perhaps we may drive her away in time to save a city! We have been offered a chance to defy the Endbringers, and we should certainly take it and ram our fist into the face of that foe, and declare the apocalypse it is bringing cancelled for this city. Each and every one of you have come here to fight a foe that opposed all of humanity, and for this, you have my respect. Now, the leader of the attack force, Eidolon!" The announcer clapped loudly while stepping aside, making room for the Triumvirate to step forth, with Eidolon at the lead.

Simurgh's descent was continuing steadily. Canberra lay ahead of her, and soon she would be setting things in motion. The defensive force believed they held the advantage, having arrived early, but in this case the added chaos would work to her benefit.

She did not need to achieve the goal of destroying the city if she could achieve her personal goal. The work done here in Canberra needed to be prevented to halt a potential anti-Endbringer weapon from being developed. It would fail, naturally, but it would be a stepping stone towards making one that would actually hurt them, and that was not something that could be allowed.

Preventing its production would have others pick up the development on partial notes, thinking they had the solution in hand, rather than a mere stepping stone, and likely expend resources and time to recreate said weapons only to later discover the rushed work would prove fruitless, without the innovative minds that were the true target.

Then there was the hidden goal, the one that she cared more for, but that was against what she was, a goal for personal reasons, not one given to her as a conflict engine. It was a goal she would be willing to sacrifice the main goal for this time around however, if given a chance to pull it off. Given the nature of that goal, it would take one of those recent shatter points, touches of chaos to make it happen.

She could make use of said chaos and twist things more towards her goal. She was blocked from initiating some actions herself, but once they were in motion, she was merely reacting to them, and that presented opportunities that she might not have acquired otherwise. Nevertheless, the battle awaited, and she was reviewing her plans for the details since she had noted a few individuals who had actually shown up.

That meant that she would also have a chance to interfere with them, though interacting with one of them would have to be through her pawns, for approaching them directly would likely trigger an emergency evacuation of those individuals as important assets.

As for the other, they would come straight for her, confident in their ability to fight, die, and come back stronger against such a foe as her, and confident they could pull it off repeatedly without risking their mind and sanity.

Interestingly enough, she could foresee them eventually joining the others in being blurred, not quite to the same extent as they, but sufficient enough to add their own share of chaos into the situation. However, that was not an issue for her that day, yet her target lay elsewhere.

She could already see the first wave of defenders rising to the air to meet and greet her. Her vision distorted slightly as she found herself puzzled by some who in one path were land-bound and unable to fly and maneuver so easily, now raised to the sky, and she noted others that had grown in size, double their usual size. Brutes, who were now lobbing things at her so rudely.

Perhaps some of these changes would become annoyance eventually, but for now, she was not concerned. The added chaos would just make the foe arrogant. Make the foe bolder. Make the foe reckless, and thus vulnerable.

All she needed was one clear shot in a shatter point where the strike could be struck with sufficient force to have the needed effect, but low enough to not cross the point of how much power she was 'permitted' to deploy against these beings if she was to prolong the fight and increase the drive for conflict.

Director Piggot was silently fuming in her office while reviewing the latest files. Blackjack was proving a potential asset worth recruiting, but one of her wards was actively talking against them and potentially the one who had messed with an exposed terminal to cause the 'ghost' message to appear to Armsmaster, but yet the cameras watching him showed no attempt at messing with said terminals shortly before the events unfolded, nor during them. Setting it all up early in advance was not likely, his power did not grant him that sort of foresight as far as she knew.

Still, Miracle was an useful asset and one that was also very PR friendly, and there was no obvious malice about him, but at the same time he triggered some warnings in her mind as she watched the way some experienced agents as well had bent the rules slightly in order to aid him, and in exchange for little fixes to their gear. Yes, it did help relieve maintenance pressure a fair bit, but it was still concerning.

Even more so because the thinkers who had been asked to provide a reading of her had returned some confusing work. There was something odd about him, but given the event that served as his trigger event it was noted as a possible variant they had not encountered before.

Still, she was reluctant to let go of her, any more than she was willing to drop the matter of recruiting Blackjack either. Yet now Armsmaster was already in Miracle's corner and opposing any attempt to draw Blackjack along, while her more violent ward, Shadow Stalker, had apparently given a more positive view of Protectorate and PRT to him than Armsmaster. Something she had not expected to happen.

It had actually made her question Shadow Stalker's watcher, and notice they had not actually paid much attention to her activity, beyond keeping in touch with her school's staff. The watcher in question had only filled in reports that were fine on a glance, but a closer look saw a lot of their content was repetitive and didn't really say anything.

Director Piggot was torn on that matter. Part of her wanted to rewards Shadow Stalker for her recent efforts, both in establishing somewhat peaceful line with Blackjack to start with, and for managing to help quickly land a strike on Legion, who had already been kill ordered before she launched that particular bolt. On the other hand, she had also been sneaking out on her own and apparently she had not been watched nearly as closely as she should have been watched, given her status as probationary ward with a history of difficulties.

Still, she had a number of issues going on in her city, and the damn higher ups refused any requests for aid. There had been a flat out demand for her to hand over the vials that Shadow Stalker had captured recently, and a warning to not let Armsmaster study them. She couldn't make a ward examine potentially dangerous tinker-tech chemicals either, but the test laboratory had at least managed to get a few things out of those things.

The vials each contained a concentrated dose of chemicals that would be potentially undetectable once mixed into something, before activated during ingestion and actually spreading through the body, before settling in to hide. After a time, they'd suddenly become malicious and attack the body from the inside like shards of glass all over inside, causing massive internal bleeding and organ failures.

Insidious, cruel, and inhumane. The fact that Empire had such a dangerous substance in their grasp raised more than a few alarms. The vials were thankfully secure, and the chemical was harmless in itself, it didn't absorb through the skin on a mere splash. Having some enter a cut would be potentially nasty, but not nearly as bad as ingesting some of the liquid.

Still, the fact they had the substance at the same place as they had some rather pure drugs painted a somewhat grim picture. The thinkers had already began to theorize a poisoned goods plan against the merchants and potentially against their leadership in particular, but the fact remained those vials were just beyond the specialization of the Empire capes, and while the scientists had managed to figure things out with some testing, they had had to use tools and test instruments made by Armsmaster before.

Meaning that the liquid in those vials was quite advanced, and likely costly to create, and given the Empire's ties with Gesellschaft, that suggested they were the origin of said liquid. Which meant that Gesellschaft had actually got to a point they were entirely willing to experiment on chemical weapons against their foes, and from the looks of it, Brockton Bay had only narrowly avoided being turned into a test case.

Because it was unlikely the merchants would have used the 'goods' in their pure form, rather they'd cut and spread it out, sell it to unrelated people as well as use some of it for themselves. Which would have potentially caused a ton of health issues on their already battered city and caused mass death on a scale that would have potentially had a kill order on ALL involved Empire Capes.

To escalate things to that level meant this was quite possibly a declaration of war. Yet whether to release news about the barely averted disaster or not was on her mind. It would be a PR win and shatter the image of Empire as being on the side of the common white man against minorities that the Empire used to try and draw in impressionable, violent youths, but on the other hand it would also agitate the already volatile situation even further.

The superiors above her seemed to act somewhat suspicious about it as well, leading her to wonder what to expect from them as well. As if all the other issues weren't bad enough, there was an Endbringer battle, and there was now potentially a Thinker who actually had a chance to provide a small early-warning to Endbringer attacks, something that would be useful despite the project that Dragon and Armsmaster had been co-operating on, a system to help detect potential Endbringer attacks and predict attack sites in advance.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead before turning to her coffee that had already turned cold. All she could do was sit, and wait, and hope that those who had joined the fight would come back home alive.

Author's Note: Somewhat torn whether or not write out the Endbringer fight with the main character not present there, but either way we're about to move to 3rd part, past Novice and Apprentice. Still 1 more post in mind for this weekend, either Saturday or Sunday.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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FrozenTome

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Threadmarks Apprentice 2.13 New

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FrozenTome

Sep 15, 2019

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Apprentice 2.13

The Battle for Canberra had began well with people gathered in large numbers, and lead by the entire Triumvirate, a gathering that regarded the situation very grim but at the same time feeling hopeful they would be able to make a difference, and wishing that their day would end up with a city saved rather than doomed to be locked down in a dome, turned into a containment zone and forbidden.

Back at Brockton Bay, the people were waiting news about how the fight turned out, as no direct news feed was permitted from Simurgh's attacks. Many were pessimistic about the chances the heroes would have against the Endbringer, but some were trying to hold onto hope, in particular those related to one of the heroes out there.

Blackjack had no direct relation to anyone there, but felt grim and guilty for not being present to take part in the fight. Waiting quietly felt like torture, as he wondered what the end result would be. The canon outcome was the total loss of Canberra, but he wondered if it was possible to change things with a nudge.

Simurgh would be met with more resistance, and the people would be alerted a bit earlier. Would that mean she would reconsider the time she took in the city, or would it be a wasted effort, a variable that did not alter the outcome beyond meaning more people would be hurt trying to prevent the disaster? He felt a touch of additional guilt at that particular thought.

Yet he could not shoulder the burdens of the world or blame himself for that and everything else, or it would drive him to depression. Sighing quietly, he moved to fill a glass of water before checking on the news.

"...in flames, costing the lives of at least 14 PRT agents and the heroes Rust and Guardian. The official statement is that this was an attack by Legion, utilizing the timing of Endbringer attack to spring an associate of his from PRT custody while most of the heroes from the local office were away at Canberra fighting for the people there."

Blackjack felt his breath catch in his throat as he listened to the news. An attack against the PRT during an Endbringer attack would probably rile up the people even more. To think that someone would be willing to violate the truce like this made him wonder if Legion really didn't give a damn about what the people thought of him.

Then again, would Endbringer truce extend to other locations, or would it only bind the attack site and those there? He wasn't entirely sure, but he was pretty sure that this would still rile the people up something fierce.

Legion was laying on the ground in Canberra, staring in shock at his own arms and legs, laying separated from his figure near him, his wounds cauterized and his head and torso left there on the ground, broken, but not dead, nor dying.

Simurgh had not given him a fight he had wanted. The bitch had not even glanced at him but had yanked a tinker-tech sword from the corpse of a tinker laying nearby, and had it fly at him like a damned jedi lightsaber, with similar results. First he had lost his both legs above the knee, then the spinning blade had come back slashing off his right arm at the shoulder, then the left, and the damned blade's heat had actually seared the wounds shut so he wasn't even in danger of bleeding out.

Simurgh had refused to give him the fight he had wanted. He would have to kill himself or be captured, for his attack against the bitch had revealed him to be who he was, and he was sure they were tempted to capture him if given the slightest chance to do so. At least Simurgh was still too close for that.

Miracle and Panacea were being evacuated, a few among the many, as the medical camp was being abandoned. Fires raged high as the people hurried to evacuate the injured and the healers alike, after a large tanker full of flammable liquids had been thrown at the camp and exploded in a fireball that had nearly seared through Miracle and Panacea as well. The fact Miracle was forced to use his forcefield to save himself exposed a part of his powers that he had not officially revealed. A part that drew more than a little suspicion from Panacea who noted the similarity to her own sister's power.

She had actually asked to be put in a different car as they hurried to evacuate, leaving Miracle brooding somewhat annoyed in another car but tending to those injured aboard the car's back, healing up those he could, and easing the harm done to those who would have taken far longer to fix in that crisis.

They weren't supposed to be in close enough to be exposed to a real risk, but clearly someone had made a dangerous, wrong estimate. Simurgh was likely involved, because if not, then some Brute had made a massive error in throwing something explosive like that and so far from the battle scene.

In Brockton Bay, a simple suggestion had seen a PRT agent leading a smiling Legion down the hallway under a disguise formed by alter self and a uniform taken off a PRT agent he had previously captured, stripped, and then dispose of.

The people around him were unaware of the fact that he would soon see the other captive member of his group go free once more. The Endbringer meant the people were away, that the guard was weak, that the place was ripe for raiding like this. He smirked coldly as he proceeded down towards the cell area.

One obvious and bloody attack at one place, and a more stealthy one at another, he would see both of his clones free and he would walk away triumphant. The people were fools to think they could contain him.

Nearing the cells, he paused in surprise as the guard before him staggered, and then collapsed. He was unsure what was going on before feeling somewhat woozy as well and cursed. Gas. Unheard, unseen, hardly even tasted, but the damn PRT was gassing him. Somehow he had triggered some security he didn't know.

His body was tougher though, so he rushed ahead, and finding a door locked before him began to enter the security code he had been given. Only to be greeted by a red 'lockdown' text on the security console's screen, making him punch it and break it.

Grasping onto the door he tried to force it open, but it was holding. Cursing loudly he turned to flee even as the alarms finally began to sound. Behind him, a previously open doorway saw a pressurized firedoor slam shut, blocking the path behind him.

He growled in anger and then threw a lightning bolt at the door, the sparks coursing through it even before he threw a pair of acid arrows into the mid section of the door, followed by a heavy slam by his shoulder a moment later.

Breaching the metal door, he grinned, and in a mere whisper, his body vanished. Turned into mere gas, he passed through the breach in the door and hurried off as fast as he could as bit of gas. He could maintain it a few minutes at a time, but the gaseous form was not going to go entirely unnoticed indoors in bright light. Translucent and insubstantial as he was, he was still somewhat misty, not perfectly clear, and while outdoors it would have been easily missed in the hallways indoors it might lead him to being caught.

Still, he slipped away down the hall beyond the doors meant to trap him, and silently cursed whoever had designed the place. He was willing to bet it was Armsmaster, the man was competent after all and they had held several Empire capes for several days earlier, so it was possible the man had devoted some attention into setting up a trap for a potential prison break attempt back then.

Yet he was not sure what had revealed him, and how that had happened. All he knew he had not managed to get close enough to dismiss that clone and had to leave it behind in captivity still.

Battery waited in the hallway quietly and checked her watch. Her orders were oddly specific and precise. She waited, watching the wristwatch intently near the doorway. Finally, the time was there and she threw the ball in her other hand through the doorway, having thumbed down the button two seconds before the moment she had to throw it.

The ball landed on the floor and bounced, even as she hastily slammed the control panel to close the door. Even as it rushed to close she felt the sudden rush of air into the hallway beyond through the doorway before it shut, and closed.

Inside the hallway Legion was surprised as the vacuum like pull of the odd little ball began to pull on him. It seemed like a tinker grenade of some sort, except instead of exploding it sucked the air around it in, and actually drained him somewhat as he fought to stay out of it. It took some effort to avoid the fate of being trapped in the damn ball, and even as it seemed to fill to capacity and stop the drain he felt somewhat shaken in his insubstantial form.

'Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for those weird little pocket monsters in that whatever it was kids show, what the hell was that? And how did they know to have one ready against me here?' Legion found himself caught in a room with doors shut at both ends, and low pressure. Irritating, and the alarms were still blaring.

Dropping his gaseous form he took a step back, and then charged right towards the door ahead.

He was strong enough to breach an armored door, one specifically built for containing cape prisoners. He would break that door down easy, it might take a moment but he would get through, and then he'd escape. All it was to him was a delay, and not even a very good one at that if he just broke a hole and went misty again, yet he was reluctant to do so if they had more of those vacuum balls or whatever they were.

Thomas Wolf, or Blackjack had he been in costume, was out again having a meal at a small restaurant while trying to come up with some plan to take down the hunters. It was apparent that Legion would cause a lot of harm if left alone, so fighting them was necessary. As for Miracle, the child was likely another hunter, meaning he would have to fight them eventually. That didn't make the idea any easier.

He let out a weary breath while resting back in his seat, glancing at the spaghetti on his plate, feeling like he was wasting a beautifully prepared meal by thinking about something he couldn't solve right now anyway, and while he could make plans he could have done it when he didn't have a good meal ahead of him being ignored.

Turning his attention back towards it, he was caught off guard when a man stepped in a fine suit pulled back the other chair at the table he was sitting at, and moved to take a seat.

"You are not an easy man to meet, Mr. Wolf. I have been hoping to get a chance to talk with you for a short while already." The man spoke in a calm tone of voice while looking at him curiously.

"Excuse me, you have me at disadvantage, who are you?" Thomas felt a tad of concern at this, and a bit of alarm that was soon replaced with a chill at the pit of his stomach.

"We share a first name, so we may prefer to stick with family names. You can call me Calvert."

Author's Note: With that, we finish off Apprentice, and next chapter will be the start of next section, Journeyman 3.1. Due to a few real life events, this chapter ended up different from what was originally planned, but I didn't want to go back on my word to have this chapter out during this weekend so here it is, such as it is.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

Last edited: Sep 15, 2019

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#115

Journeyman 3.1

The Battle for Canberra had been a tiresome one, and a battle in which Scion did not show up at all. Yet its end result was better than most had expected, seeing as Simurgh had actually retreated before the entire city would have needed to be quarantined. She had not lingered long enough to spread her song onto the populace there, indeed, her attack had been surprisingly swift and even brutal compared to some of the previous ones.

From the number of heroes that went to the fight the majority were coming back bruised, but able to recover fully given time. A few had been isolated for observation for a while, but should recover. Yet there had been a few casualties, most noteworthy among them being Eidolon himself.

Legend and Eidolon had lead the attack, with Alexandria lending her own power to strikes against the mind twisting figure in the angelic form, striking one after another before Simurgh had surprised them unleashing a level of power that was previously unseen. It was apparent either Simurgh had been sandbagging, or had deemed the situation bad enough to use some previously unheard of boost on its own abilities, but regardless the end results had shocked people.

Eidolon had been slashed and torn by things that danced to Simurgh's will, and her attacks had also been joined by a barrage of blasters that she had actually managed to fool into launching an all out attack when she pretended to be momentarily stunned or disoriented, only to slip to the side just in time and even pushing Eidolon right in the path of those blasts.

Legend had even blamed himself for it, but the end results were the same. Eidolon had been badly beaten, rendered to a comatose state, and practically hurled away with breakneck speed by Simurgh before she began her retreat. The fact Legend had managed to accelerate in time to catch Eidolon had spared his life, but the beating and the quick stop, even if Legend was able to cushion it somewhat, was still sufficient to leave Eidolon in a vegetative state, potentially permanently.

The people were happy they had won, and that the city had been saved a grim fate, yet at the same time some people were wondering if this victory came at a high price, for if Eidolon had been one of their few trump cards against Endbringers and now unable to participate in these fights anymore, what would that mean for future conflicts?

Cauldron may have been panicking and horrified of their potential loss in this fight, but in the meanwhile in Brockton Bay a lone figure was letting out a relieved sigh while closing the television. Stretching out he smiled slightly and considered the present circumstances.

Eidolon was down, potentially permanently. The Endbringers had not all immediately fallen into slumber, but the fact remained that Simurgh had not really cared to stay behind in Canberra once Eidolon was out of action spoke in favor of them being less inclined to carry out previously given commands.

That did not necessarily mean that it was over, but it did offer a possibility of at least slower cycle and he had some hope it might even spell the end of Endbringer attacks, eventually. It would remain to be seen if Eidolon being knocked out would affect things or if it would take killing the man to render the Endbringers to a deep slumber.

The problem in that case was the fact that Scion would potentially still destroy the world if given a convincing enough reason to do so. Which meant Jack Slash and his communication shard would have to go. Yet the Slaughterhouse 9 were no joke, and even if some people might think they could be taken down and rendered into pieces with sufficient force and surprise, they seemed to underestimate the danger that roaming band of murderhobos posed to the world and the individual capes in their path.

Still, Thomas Wolf had other matters to consider as well. Chief among them the game he had been pulled into, the game that granted him access to his powers but also set him up as prey to a bunch of dangerous individuals who would be looking for any chance to render him into bloody pieces to secure their own powers and more.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he had met with Calvert, or Coil, and had been actually tempted to kill the man on the spot. Yet he had stayed his hand, wanting to know what Calvert was after. He had, after all, taken the chance to step up and approach Thomas in person, or at least he thought so. It was entirely possible he was dealing with a body double of some sort, though he had a feeling Coil tended to use that trick more with actual villain costume on rather than in his civilian identity.

"I am here as a messenger, someone who was asked to deliver something to you in person, by a person with a particular interest in you and your abilities. I considered entrusting this task to another, delegating it, but ultimately decided to carry it out in person so to be certain it was delivered. Here. Take this, and you will have both answers, and more questions on your mind, after that, it is your decision whether or not you will call the number that has been included in the message."

He had a feeling that Calvert may have tried alternative means to bring him in and failed, resulting in a more careful approach, but that changed when he noted the stylish letter C on the letter. Without his gamer abilities he would have likely shown more surprise than he had, but even with it he had tensed up, a reaction that did not go unnoticed. Calvert had chosen not to comment on it, and had soon departed again, though not before leaving him with a phone number of his own, asking him to call if he was willing to do some mercenary work.

What the letter had contained was another fine bit of headache. It seemed he had set off some small ripples with his man of mystery advantage, though relatively minor and easily enough ignored by Cauldron unless they were focusing on Brockton Bay itself, yet at the same time, there was another more wide-spread veil of blindspots over Brockton, a veil that was hindering Cauldron's efforts.

Contained within was an offer of $2,500,000.00 USD for locating and either capturing or eliminating its source, as well as an offer for continued employment. They were also offering assistance in relocating elsewhere afterwards, if he so desired. All in all a seemingly fair, though criminal offer.

The problem was he wasn't going to be able to go anywhere, nor was he too keen on attacking someone who wasn't a hunter. Criminals taken down were one thing, but this was an offer to commit murder in exchange for money. An offer to make him an assassin.

Which frankly worried him, because Cauldron had its own spooky woman in a dress with capabilities that should far exceed his own when it came to precision strikes like assassination. That was before he considered the possibility that they had avoided using that option precisely because of the number of blindspots now present in Brockton Bay.

Regardless, he had confirmation that both Cauldron and Coil were aware of him, and though he didn't know for sure he could only assume Coil had tried to have him kidnapped before, with poor results. Otherwise he would probably be living a timeline of being a caged captive being converted to coil's schemes already.

Thomas Calvert was sitting quietly in his base while silently evaluating his options. Taking down Blackjack had proven to be more expensive than he would have wanted to make it, and didn't solve the issue of blindspots caused by another, and he had not made any progress in trying to locate that alternative source.

His benefactors had dropped a message that he could make use of the known one if he so desired, and even included some additional information to try and aid in convincing the individual in question to side with them. Unfortunately that was about as much as Calvert had been privy about the contents of said letter, as a timeline where he had opened the letter himself had abruptly ended with a gunshot from behind.

It irritated him to be reduced to an errand boy like that, but trying to establish a peaceful, friendly front and win the man over might pay off in the long run. He didn't like gambling with the odds when he could not rig the game in his favor with his power, but at the present time there were few options, as trying to take the man down by force wasn't an efficient plan, not when he could take down Coil's mercenaries and seemed to be getting better and better at it.

Sending Circus in to dig for information had resulted in surprisingly empty background check, to a point the absence of information spoke for itself, before a whole persona had been crafted and inserted in place in various governmental agencies as well, a forgery so good it required an inside job. A job that would have cost a fortune to pull off, but given his apparent powers it was not unthinkable he might have had the money or the favors owed to him to do so, if only Coil had a definite path to follow.

The events at Canberra were raising a lot of different discussions, and even at Winslow the latest lecture about the capes and their effect on recent history saw the event brought up and an attempt at engaging the class in a debate had been poorly pulled off by Mr. Gladly as he set people up in small groups to discuss what the implications of this recent situation might be in the long term.

Taylor Hebert wasn't pleased to be stuck at the same table with Greg and one of Emma's lackeys, Marie. She was a hanger on but an annoyance regardless, and Taylor really didn't want to deal with any additional drama that day.

At least it seemed that Emma and Madison had been left to resort to assaulting her with words since Sophia had been busy recently with her own practice, a rumor going on even suggested she might have plans to bring some medals to Winslow for sports achievements.

Taylor doubted that though. While Sophia was indeed in good shape and athletic, she was too violent for any team-sports and her competitive nature might make her a very sore loser if that came to be. Practicing like crazy recently made little sense with how she had been practically blowing off practice before to help plan and play those cruel, ruthless pranks on her alongside Emma and Madison, serving as the muscle of their little group of harpies.

Tuning out Greg's eager talk she winced slightly at a particularly harsh 'shut up' snapped by Marie after a moment, after which the pouting boy had turned his eyes on her. Taylor really didn't want to deal with his clingy behavior either. The boy might talk about wanting to help, but he had never done anything to really help Taylor nor had he been willing to speak up when police had asked about the incident at school.

The fact that they had actually tried to blame her for the mess had not sat right with the police, not after Taylor's own interview with them, and while they had not caught the ones responsible they had managed to pressure the school into paying for her hospital stay and a modest sum in addition, though it was grudgingly and she had a feeling the principal wanted her head mounted on a wall in revenge.

The fact she'd also set up transfer requests and then witnessed them being shoved into a shredder without as much as a proper look had only further cemented her decision to try and ignore the trouble going on to the best of her ability, defend herself if necessary, and harden her resolve against Emma.

Legion's attacks in the city had come close to killing Emma but rather than take it as a scare to think about how she had behaved and how she would want to be remembered she had instead focused on the fact she'd survived and how Legion had been shot, well one of the times he had been shot, on practically her own doorstep, making her a sort of celebrity, for about five minutes, and school-wide if that.

Watching the shell of what was once her former friend reacting in such a manner had helped convince Taylor that alongside all the cruelty already displayed Emma was just not worth giving any though about anymore. That friendship was not only dead, but its corpse mutilated and tossed overboard to feed sharks by Sophia's actions.

The locker had changed things for her, and Taylor Hebert was looking to change herself. She wasn't showing too much of it on the surface yet, but she cared far less than she used to, and old insults still hurt but not nearly as much as they once did.

The fact she had actually told Emma face to face she was sorry to hear she had lived through the experience, with a particular focus on the word lived had seemed to shake up the now stuck-up bitch though, enough to grant her some reprieve for the rest of the day, only to make it worse the next day.

"So Taylor, what about I take you out after school? I know this movie theater that is running some cool old films and-" Greg's comment caught her out of her thoughts and made her wince before she held up a hand in front of his face.

"Stop. Just stop. I am not interested in you, nor am I going to go out with you. Not even as a friend."

He saw the shocked look on Greg's face even as the bell rang, heading off to the hallway and hurrying off as fast as she could. The school was irritating, her powers were waiting to be used, and yet she had to wait. She was not ready.

The added pressure of Legion's attacks, and now the radical change of having Eidolon who was a regular, powerful participant in Endbringer fights being taken down was getting to her. The world was in a sad shape, and she wasn't sure how long it really had. With people like Slaughterhouse 9 and the Legion running wild, it really did not seem like they had much of a future, and the Blasphemies and Ashbeast made life difficult elsewhere.

Yet under all that crap, the more immediate issue of seeing Emma and Madison heading towards her with another verbal assault in mind no doubt just made her want to snap back at Emma's face, and really tell her where to shove whatever taunts she now had in mind. Unfortunately she knew that despite the pressure she was under the school's principal would be just aching for an excuse to jump on her and punish her.

The first warning the members of Burning Legion's cultists had that their newly acquired compound was under attack was the fiery explosion that rocked the structures around it, the mess hall collapsing alongside the armory as the artillery strikes hit home. The people were getting up and those who had kept their weapons with them were quick to check they were ready to be used, and sliding safeties off.

The nearby wall shattered with a tank pushing through, and even as the first line of flaming hands and magic missiles pinged on its hull alongside rifle fire, the gun blasted into the biggest grouping of men, even as soldiers began to enter through the hole in the wall and unload upon the cultists with automatic weapons.

The gates in turn were shattered by an explosion mere seconds later, heralding the arrival of more vehicles, with mounted machineguns starting to spray and cut down cult members with merciless intent.

Legion's cultists had struck in five little towns, and killed anyone that got in their way, while Legion clones served as field commanders, and simultaneous attempt to free the captive brethren was under way.

The fact the cultists had shown unnatural abilities so similar to Legion's own had sent a lot of Thinkers theorizing and debating, before a rather frightening parallel had been drawn with Teacher. One 'deathless psychopath with powers' was bad enough, the people in charge were not willing to allow more of such individuals to grow in power and numbers. The fact the man had gathered such a force so quickly also made them wonder if Legion's powers included a potential master power of some sort, given his intrusion in Brockton Bay and the way he had gathered people around him like that. In short, that made Legion a high priority target, with little restraints in use if found away from innocents.

Cauldron's little push behind the move only served to refine the plans further and time it right.

The first explosion in itself had torn apart two of Legion's clones, murdering them before they could organize these bastards. They might be back later, but by then, their weeks of work would be rendered ash, and the cultists stomped down in a way that would be a win that the PRT and the military could wave on the banners. It might be an overkill, but against Legion, there was little the government wasn't willing to do by now.

The fact they'd gathered together like that was a mistake that the armed forces were certainly happy to take full advantage of. The cultists that had been hiding before had got bolder and wilder, and after their triumph they had gathered to be taught more, with Legion's grasp on their hearts and minds secured they wanted power and practically worshipped the monster willing to give it to them, so the military and the PRT had acted.

Unlike in cultist assaults, the blood soaking the ground was not that of innocents but of blood-soaked maniacs and murderers. People drawn to power and corrupted, the PRT and the military had little reason to even attempt to take any alive, but orders were orders, and a few of the 'casters' were subdued swiftly with both stunguns and containment foam, even as the others were put down as rabid dogs.

After all, both the PRT and the military wanted to know how those individuals had gained power, so similar power in fact, and if the effect could be reproduced without the insanity that seemed to have befallen all of them.

Contessa waited patiently even as Legion's clone reformed in the wilds close to the compound, putting a bullet in his head. Again, and again. She had resorted to carrying a rifle with her when she went out to do this, because pistol caliber was no longer reliable with all of those clones, and even at close range it would have been a hard move if he had those shields of his in effect.

But with her power, and away from Brockton, she knew exactly where each one came out. Repeating the pattern, killing Legion's clones over and over a few more times, till it had taken long enough. The two appeared together in close proximity the next time, only to be met with the sight of a tall blue man, if they could call it a man, standing almost twice as tall as them at a clearing. Grinning.

It grasped them both, one in each hand, and raised the first one intent on chomping on its head when a pillar of fire emerged from the captive man's hand, scorching the man's mouth and throat with flames that poured out with force.

Dropping the two Legion clones and grimacing, the blue man roared and reached out to grasp them again while both made gestures and suddenly a pair of large hounds appeared along with glowing ritual circles, each one jumping ahead immediately to bite on the giant man.

Contessa frowned while watching from distance. There was no evidence whatsoever of the two clones having lost their powers, despite their close proximity to what was 'politely' referred to as 'Cannibal Nullifier', a monster of E-Class.

"Test results show E-38 is a failure, the trump ability of power nullification has failed to have any effect on Legion, no notable decrease in powers and definitely no flat out loss of power despite what other thinkers have suggested. Source of this 'resistance' is uncertain, but that confirms that we cannot simply attempt to nullify his powers to take him down." Her words were met with a short reply in her earpiece a moment later.

"Retreat, we'll try our luck with E-51 and E-116 later. I trust E-38 won't be a problem?" The Doctor Mother's question was already answered, as one of the Legion's buried his hand into the figure's mouth, only for a fiery explosion to erupt shattering the blue man's skull, even as the giant chomped said hand off in exchange.

"No, E-38 has already failed and been terminated by the target." Turning around, she had already switched off the microphone and the earpiece, speaking normally. "Door me."

By the time one of the Legion clones had broken the neck of the other to let it return to life in a full repaired body once again there was no signs of her having been present to witness the experiment. Her shard had already claimed it would not work but others had wanted confirmation and the fact her path had not provided a definite answer why it would not work had lead them to wanting to at least try it.

Author's Note: So we begin. Only Legion body in captivity is the one in Brockton Bay, but his cult is more or less devastated, after one off-screen assault around the countryside, and others are plotting and preparing, while the Main Character has to sit down and consider their options.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Sep 19, 2019

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#121

Journeyman 3.2

Miracle was resting back in his room at the Wards section of the PRT HQ, quietly nursing a headache he had been suffering from after the events at Canberra. The battle had been a savage if somewhat brief by Endbringer standards, and the attacks against the campgrounds had left several injured people in critical state, though she and Panacea had been credited as the main reason so many near-death individuals had come off of the experience alive and well. Relatively well at least.

Yet coming back to Brockton Bay he felt the adulation he received was hardly sufficient, and his young age prevented him from drawing quite the same level of adoration and fans that some of the older heroic examples did. The fact he was doing it all with a male body while a mind of a girl rested inside made it a little weirder still, even if he had more or less got used to it by now.

He was making some plans though, since there was a patrol scheduled ahead soon that would see him, Vista, and Kid Win out simultaneously to look over the scheduled area. He was sincerely hoping to try and steer the other two to join him in keeping an eye out for Blackjack. The fact Vista had met him but had also seen him vanish had Miracle wonder about how difficult it would be to subdue the man.

His power to fix things was useful in a variety of ways, but for combat it was the Jailbroken copy of Glory Girl's powers that would serve him well. A protective shield, that was currently being excused as 'minor tinkertech gadget', as well as the power to strike hard enough to crater the ground if necessary. Though that was a power he was not showing off publically. He maintained the image of a helpful healer and fixer, rather than a combat-ready individual, though he had been paying attention on the lessons about self defense and how to act.

The fact he was going to be going out with Kid Win and Vista helped, but he was still somewhat sore about the last time. He had been paired with Shadow Stalker, who had abandoned him in short order to run off, and had ended up being on the run from Mush and a number of Merchants who had noticed him snooping way too close to one of their stashes.

The fact remained they had actually attacked with force, and before he'd got away he had heard them calling for Skidmark and Squealer to come join the hunt. The little drawback of having the merchants interest was in full effect after he had showed the ability to remove withdrawal symptoms from some of the 'society sweethearts' who had been 'unwillingly exposed to illegal narcotics by vile Merchants'.

In other word, covering up for the drug-habit of rich kids, and sparing them a lengthy rehab with a quick fix by his hand. The thing was that his ability had done it, and had seen to it that he had been profusely thanked and handed a number of useful gifts to make use of as well, and given him close access to several people in higher positions of power to lay the groundwork for subtle mind alteration.

Yet those opportunities had become scarcer lately and Director Piggot seemed to be watching her like a hawk, and the same could be said about Miss Militia when she was present. Though that woman was only present part of the time, while Battery came by to visit the wards from time to time.

Turning the older capes to adore him and work towards his goal was a slow process, but he had some of them under a minor thrall and it was building up. Living around Vista and Kid Win most of the time did allow him to let the power sink in a lot better, but unlike Glory Girl with Panacea he had not gained the advantage of being close to them several hours each day, since he found himself working a console or in training a fair share of time despite some wishes against it.

The school was one place where he could work on convincing the group to work with him towards the end goal, and even there it seemed he ran into some issues. Like Glory Girl's boyfriend being suspicious of him for no real reason sometimes.

Still, he had hopes that tonight's patrol would bring him one step closer to his goal. Vista was already his pawn, after she had come to stay at the PRT again while her parents fought, while Kid Win was practically living at the PRT most of the time. He had been stuck in the lab for most of the time though, working on some Alternator Cannon. Though it seemed Kid Win had been having some issues putting it all together.

Legion was angry at the recent defeats and setbacks, but ultimately they meant very little. He was growing stronger, but he was also being struck hard on multiple fronts lately. In the end, he had recalled his clones to himself, and did something that he had left to lay in wait for a while.

He dismissed all those clones, all except the one captive and unconscious, and felt the mixture of experiences and lessons mingle in his mind. What he gained from this was not quite the sum of all of his parts, but it did strengthen his 'primary' form somewhat, before he split again to stand among six others.

His attack clones were tough enough to take pistol shots without even a bruise but rifles hurt them still, and so did most form of energy. He was strong enough to rip free of traditional restraints, but not enough to break containment foam, yet. He had also reached a point where throwing fireballs was a possibility.

His cult-leader clones were still vulnerable to pistol rounds, but to a much smaller degree than most. They could pierce the skin but unless they hit him in the head they would barely break the skin. With his head though, they'd bounce off his skull irritating him. Yet a higher caliber shot, like a heavy handgun or a rifle, would pulverize his skull. Yet those clones retained a power to cast fourth level arcane spells so far, making stoneskin an option that would make him able to shrug off a blast from a main battle tank if need be, though the stoneskin would wear down fast under such shots. And it seemed that spells higher than third level took longer to recover from, making them a limited commodity.

Having lost an 'infiltrator' he was forced to make the two new ones for the job from scratch, but the began at the base level his original now held, able to cast second level spells and tough enough that pistol rounds would hurt but not kill, unless someone got lucky and shot him in the head. Those infiltrators would be keeping disguise self and alter self as constant spells to move around as strangers and gather intelligence.

It was time to start moving his operations over to Brockton Bay, and shake it harshly to make sure he'd get the target out in the open. Making a mess around the US had been fun way to build up power, but he had already seen the prey was not strong enough to be left alone for long, and that meant he had to move in before someone else stole his kill, and his glory. The power in his grasp would not be taken from him.

Unfortunately the assassin that had exterminated him during his attack in Brockton Bay with bombs had made sure his armaments had been seized, and even tracked down the rest of the surprises in the city to take them away.

His cult was dead, other than a few captives that would probably die before talking. He was pretty sure of that. If not, he'd hunt them down and prove he was the strongest.

The Burning Legion would consume this world if necessary, Legion had taken that flaw, that drawback, and he lived out the life he had been given here as the terror from beyond the stars.

He was tempted to just split to as many clones as he could manage (which was currently stable for more than a day at 8, for more than six hours 16, or for just about 2 hours up to as many as 32.

That capacity had not really grown, while he wanted to split infinitely many times that was difficult to even try, and he was looking forward to building up enough strength to make his 'base level' strong enough that when he did split into as many as he could, he could honestly make a frightening display on the city streets with it.

He had considered summoning things and letting them loose to spread chaos and horror, but the things summoned only lingered for minutes at best, making them more useful in immediate fights. Unfortunately there did not seem to be an easy way around that. Yet mind magics were an insidious, useful tool as already proven by his previous infiltration attempts.

He would find a way, and soon the city would tremble. He smirked to his 'brothers' in the old warehouse, and they sat down to plot and plan, gathered together in one spot like this was risky, so they would not stay together for long. Then again, on the other hand they had enough combined firepower to level the building and survive it if it came to that.

Steven was resting back on a couch with a notebook in one hand, a pencil in another. He had been writing down a number of details recently after having received the reports by his minions, and had even gone as far as to set up a map of the city to attach pins and needles on it against a board he had found in the basement.

The gang hideouts, the stashes, safehouses, garages, businesses, he was better informed than most people in the city by now, crossing between the lines drawn to mark gang territories with ease. He was aware of the PRT and Ward patrol schedules, of deployments and of a number of other things that would have horrified some people to know being so exposed.

Yet some places remained too difficult to reach, and the Protectorate Rig was one of those. Getting someone in there took some effort, and his minions didn't last too long there. Something about the place was just playing merry havoc on his control despite some modifications. It might just be the fact the place had such shielding and other tinker-tech defenses that the information wasn't really relayed through to him.

He had spent some time working on it, and sent off minions with set instructions to gather information for a certain length of time, and then return to report. Even that was proving a somewhat disappointing venture however, as much of that information was too old by the time he got his hands on it, or partial, with some of the said information lost along the way back.

Still, if and when he decided to enter the stage he would do so far more prepared than his competition, and he had a plan in mind that would work. He was somewhat annoyed at Coil's persistence, having found the man had apparently attempted to locate him and either eliminate or capture him. Yet at the same time the fact that he was not out doing anything stupid in person seemed to be leaving the man tearing his hair out looking for Steven.

He had managed to slip a few of his minions through into Coil's base though, and made sure to observe a few scenes. As luck would have it, he had even witnessed Tattletale show up to report one time, but had been kept from following due to her glancing suspiciously at the direction of his minions at a couple of times, though not remarking anything. Whether or not she was aware of anything remained to be seen, but he figured the chances were she may have simply noted a blind spot in her ability and been curious.

Still, Steven was not content with moving with the information he had so far. There was a lot of details missing, and the plan called for a patient approach. He was playing at a disadvantage to start with, not hurrying towards the goal, but from what he had observed so far he was reasonably sure the other hunters would have a hard time catching their prey.

Legion was acting in a manner that would draw the attention to him wherever he went, and cause panic and mayhem. He would draw the heroes out, but whether or not he drew the one he wanted to find would remain to be seen.

Miracle was working within the boundaries of PRT Wards program, and was both aided and hindered by their efforts, and that of Youthguard. The fact he was adored and loved by the public made Miracle a dangerous figure because if he made accusations they would likely stick, and Blackjack may have fought criminals but was largely considered by the public to be a dangerous vigilante, even after registering as an independent hero.

Hearing the door click further off, he hastily put the notebook away and replaced it with another, more innocent seeming one. "Hey dad." He greeted his guardian briefly.

Blackjack let out a weary groan after finishing his workout, silently grateful for the stat gains he was experiencing as a gamer, even if it was relatively small gain. He was improving, well past the normal physical limits of a human being, the gamer physiology having unlocked limitations and allowed him to raise those stats above the soft caps. He wasn't sure if he would experience running into a 'hard cap' at some point, but so far it didn't seem that way.

He was semi-regular at the gym, paying for individual visits so far, but had been considering a membership under an alias. His body was fit and athletic, and he had to admit he preferred it the way it was now. Still, leaving the gym after a proper shower and change of clothes he thought back at the end results of the Canberra situation.

Would losing Eidolon mean the Endbringers would remain active, or would they go dormant at some point? Would Eidolon's death bring the dormancy if his coma did not do the job?

He wasn't sure about either, but he had reason to suspect that either way, Leviathan would still be coming, and he wasn't too keen to see the city ruined so he would have to join that fight if it came down to it. Which meant that there was a very real, life-threatening scenario ahead in the future in just a few months time, and he was meant to stay here for years.

He had fought Legion so far and felt reasonably sure his dual focus in magic would help him, but Legion's companion seemed to add to the threat that Legion posed, and his seeming refusal to die had him cursing quietly and briefly wondering if Legion had also picked Harry Potter and wand magic as an option and gone ahead to create a horcrux. Then again that seemed doubtful given how fast the man had been returning to life time and time again.

Though the possibility of an ally performing the 'resurrection' in the background had crossed his mind after witnessing Legion attack him at the rooftop earlier. That didn't explain the amount of attacks elsewhere either.

He was tempted to guess Naruto and 'ninja magic' or whatever it was, along with Shadow Clones, but that seemed unlikely as well. He wasn't too familiar with Naruto but figured that if the man had picked that, there would have been far more clones and they'd have been easy to kill.

But he was starting to think his foe was not only hard to kill but able to either move very fast across the nation or had multiple bodies at his disposal. He doubted that the hunter had picked several minions, not with restricted, limited power available to him to begin with, but he was not quite certain what it might be.

Reaching a suitably quiet empty spot, he layered a few spells on him and was soon in flight, invisible, and heading back towards a safe location. He was going to head out to patrol for a change later that night anyway, and felt like getting an early start since he kept having some ideas bothering him and not letting him just rest anyway.

Sophia Hess had managed to draw too much attention to her lately, and though she was annoyed to do so, she had decided to limit her own behavior at school somewhat. Going with Emma and Madison and taunting Taylor was fine, as they could not really get in trouble for words, but beating the girl for mouthing off to Emma was not a good option right now, not until the attention she had drawn had passed once more.

At least she knew the person supposed to be watching her was happy to hold a comfy job and more than willing to hide any real reports of wrongdoing at the school, and Blackwell was more than willing to sacrifice a girl if it meant that she stayed at Winslow, bringing in money and some protection in case one of the gang members going to school decided to start trouble. Sophia knew she was valuable to the bitch, but that didn't mean she wouldn't throw Sophia under the bus if the situation got bad enough.

Which meant that Taylor had got a little extra time, but in the meanwhile she had been pleased at taking down Merchant scum and teaching Empire some lessons now and then. She was annoyed that she had not run into Blackjack again for a while, after Armsmaster's attack.

The fact remained he had shown willingness to hit hard and not whine to her about excessive force, and the fact remained he was more of a hunter than some. Still, she didn't really care too much, it was just curious watching someone else hunt as well. Besides, the hunt could help take off some of the annoyance that had been building up.

She'd have to keep her unannounced patrol quiet, but if she went out the chances were that her activity would still go unnoticed. Unlike at school, there weren't that many witnesses. If there were, she might be able to silence them.

Author's Note: Expecting to be a somewhat busy weekend, so might not have more up until next week. I may post something on Sunday but that's not a promise.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Sep 19, 2019

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Threadmarks Journeyman 3.3 New

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Sep 23, 2019

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#127

Journeyman 3.3

The patrol that Blackjack had taken up was feeling relatively quiet. After starting he had moved in the air flying quietly and keeping alert for any signs of trouble, but finding it to be a rather quiet time for a change. Not that he was genuinely complaining about things going relatively well for a change, but it did get a little dull to be moving along without anything of particular interest going on.

Still, he had attacked the merchant safehouses he knew about before, and had trouble the empire from time to time. He had not really run into ABB members but that was likely a matter of time before he ended up having to start a fight with their lot.

Part of him wanted to start out taking out some of the threats like removing Coil at some point, but having been approached by the man for a delivery, from what appeared to be Cauldron, as well as an offer of non-aggression pact between the two, the man had been moved down on that list for now. He knew Coil was a threat, but unlike the Empire, ABB and Merchants, Coil wanted to take over the city and hence was not acting like he was planning to set it on fire unlike some of the trigger happy thugs.

Blackjack had still agreed to it, and meant it, though stipulating that initially he would only agree to one lasting till the beginning of April, noting they'd have to see what the situation was by then. He also briefly noted that any collaboration with Legion to attack him would annul the agreement on the spot. A mention he had made because he was reasonably sure the snake would try and backstab him at some point.

Though he was not feeling too bad about the situation he was in anymore truthfully. He had an apartment rented and paid for, money on a couple of separate accounts, a source of income through working as a healer under the care of the Faultline crew, and an open offer to join the Protectorate and work creating potions for PRT.

He was reluctant to do that though, since it left him vulnerable when he had expended his charge for the day. He preferred to save it till a possible Endbringer battle or helping with something in particular. An idle thought that was soon pushed aside as he noticed something else.

Moving along the rooftops further off he saw Vista and Kid Win, along with a third that he didn't immediately recognize. Though it only took him a moment to connect the dots, having seen the broadcast before though not really all that active in the cape scene yet back then. That was Miracle. One of his foes, out in the open, patrolling.

It was enough to make him curious. A simple invisibility spell concealed his presence as he moved somewhat closer to listen, wary as he was, observing his foe while maintaining some distance.

Miracle was starting to regret asking about Kid Win's latest creation, as the young Tinker had not been able to shut up for one moment after he made the mistake of asking. Talking about it for more than fifteen minutes with barely enough time to draw a breath every now and then was sort of impressive, but also bewildering.

Most of it was going over his head. Miracle could fix it and understand some parts of it, but others were seemingly deliberately vague or blackboxed when it came to Tinker tech, things that couldn't really be created by non-tinkers, making maintenance a nightmare as well. Given his ability to fix things for Armsmaster and Kid Win though, Miracle was in good standing with both of them.

Vista, however, was showing even more signs of irritation listening to Kid Win go on and on while hearing only 'uh uh' and 'okay' from Miracle while she kept looking for any potential signs of trouble.

"Would it kill you to shut up and pay attention to the patrol?" She snapped back finally, glancing at Kid Win who looked like she'd just told him that Christmas was cancelled.

"But I'm just saying-"

"You've been 'just saying' for more than ten minutes now, give it a rest." Vista snapped back when Kid Win tried to defend himself, causing the young tinker to visibly tense up and then wilt slightly.

"You're being a little harsh Vista, but I think I get your point. We do need to watch out for any signs of trouble. Even more so if we could catch any signs of Legion or Blackjack, though I'd be happy just busting up Merchants, ABB or the Empire thugs." He smiled while trying to establish a bit of peace again.

"It's not as if the console would let us engage anyway, not with the way they're crying about the dangers in Brockton Bay after the start of this year." Vista remarked. "Effing Legion and Effing gangwars."

"Hey it could be worse. At least nobody's shooting at us." Kid Win grinned widely.

"I swear if that ends up being foreshadowing I'll smack you." Miracle's quip earned a smirk from Vista and a pout from Kid Win before they proceeded along the route, with Vista shortening the distance between rooftops to help them advance quickly.

"Legion has decided to slip back to Brockton Bay, and the amount of shadows and blind-spots there is making tracking him down difficult. It appears though that he is hunting for someone. From what I could path before the last of him vanished in the bay, I believe he is after both Blackjack and Miracle. Which would make sense as both of them are potentially useful for making the world better, and Legion seems driven to cause strife and misery." Contessa addressed the gathered members of their little group seriously.

"That is going to set back our plans to use the E-class to test him and hopefully annihilate him. Could you not have used something stronger for the first test?" Numbers Man addressed Contessa with a frown.

"The use of other E-class so close to the cult compound could have prolonged the fight long enough to draw innocents to a fight they could not win. The test to see if a power-nullifier would be enough was deemed both sufficient danger and viable method of elimination if not for the anomaly in his power." Doctor Mother responded sharply at the apparent accusation.

"It did reveal that we may have to be more careful. The President himself is accompanied by a Trump Power-nullifier to prevent any insane capes from trying to kill or master him, but they would have had less effect than the previous test subject." Alexandria remarked in turn.

"A power- nullifier that has a cushy job and the president's ear and confidence, all thanks to us." Contessa added, earning a somewhat smug nod from Alexandria.

"What about the other issue? Blind-spots around Brockton?" Numbers Man felt he had to interrupt with this seeing how they had become a serious enough issue to Contessa and their plotting lately.

"It seems the area has more or less stabilized and stopped growing. While Brockton Bay area is covered, they have not spread out any further. They stay pretty close to the city limits, meaning there is no issue with the pathing outside of Brockton Bay." Contessa responded in an even manner.

"At least that's some good news. What about Eidolon's condition?" Numbers Man continued.

"We are doing what we can, but we would need another to make sure. Unfortunately, we are not sure who we could reliably ask to assist Eidolon. I spoke of it with Contessa before and we both agree allowing Miracle close to him for long periods of time might be dangerous, but a short healing session to fix things might help. Alternatively we may have to convince Panacea to help, and confirm whether or not she can affect brains." Doctor Mother added seriously.

"She can, but won't unless under immense pressure. It is something she is rather adamant about, and attempt to make her do so would run a risk of 72 per cent that she would suffer a mental breakdown afterwards for crossing her self-imposed limits." Contessa added somewhat quietly.

"Which in turn would remove a highly capable healer from Endbringer fights, and increase the cape casualties even further." Doctor Mother added with a sigh.

Sophia had been moving around in the dark for a while, looking about, before she arrived to a warehouse t hat she had wanted to check. Reaching there she was surprised to spot a group of five men loading a large number of flammable barrels onto pair of vans, with a sixth sitting nearby fiddling with a pair of bombs from what she saw.

The fact that caught her attention was that they were identical to one another, and matched what she remembered seeing about Legion earlier. She was somewhat stunned at the revelation she had found the madman's current hideout, and confirmed for herself he did indeed appear to have multiple bodies.

Sophia Hess, Shadow Stalker, would raise her status as the hunter to a supreme hunter if she could take down this foe by herself, but even if she could not, she would enjoy shooting them before fleeing. Still, it was too good a chance to spy on them to miss. She snuck in a bit closer, staying in the shadows.

To her frustration though it seemed as if none of them were keen on talking, none of them showed signs of being interested in chatting among themselves. Too bad, she could have learned more from a foe. Sneaking ahead closer, she paused on hearing something behind her, before a sudden bolt of lightning slammed to her back making her shriek as she became fully corporeal again and stumbled ahead.

"Skulking around like a rat, you must be Shadow Stalker." A seventh figure smirked seemingly appearing out of thin air a bit behind her. "You are a fool to think you can catch us off guard. We got the perimeter warded so that you alarmed us before you even snuck inside. Letting you walk right into a trap."

He grinned while drawing a knife, and stepping closer. "Let's see what the Protectorate will think of us hanging your skinned corpse from a flagpole at their doorstep, shall we?" He grinned.

She had heard enough while he was ranting to not want to stick around, and recovered enough to go back into immaterial state while dodging to the side. A new lightning blast slammed down nearby but she was already in motion. Running, she shifted behind crates and became corporeal even as a pair of lightning bolts from the others were joined by a fiery ball flying past her. She barely had time to become incorporeal again before a blast of fire ran over where she'd just stood, grateful for her incorporeal state in shadowy mist being 'merely' blown away, unharmed.

Landing at a good spot she became corporeal just long enough to shoot one of the tranquilizer bolts to a van loaded with barrels, and went incorporeal again even as the tazer-bolt went off at a anti-brute current.

The rusty barrel sparked with the high current striking it at once, and those sparks lit the fumes. The resulting explosion leveled the warehouse, sending Shadow Stalker flying back in incorporeal state but recovering on a rooftop and smirking coldly before raising her phone.

"Console, this is Shadow Stalker, reporting in. Found Legion in a warehouse on corner of Weston and Phillips, Warehouse D. Confirmed them loading up barrels into a pair of vans, and working on a pair of bombs. Multiple copies of the same man, matching Legion's recorded images. Was caught sneaking around but managed to extract, during escape one of the barrels was struck and exploded. Not seeing any survivors on the scene right now, barely made it out thanks to my own power, but not sure if this is the end of Legion. No confirmation at least." She reported things even if she was not supposed to be out on patrol by herself, but this would barely get her a smack on the hands compared to the potential PR win for PRT for stopping Legion from doing another bombing run around the city.

Legion growled in anger while forming in an alleyway nearby, his other clones manifesting around the city. Shadow Stalker had just made it to the top of his hit-list, and he wanted that bitch to suffer. Hurting her became a delightful sounding hobby after that irritating girl interfered with his plans like this, and he had an idea of what to do.

Striking at her in her civilian identity, at her school, would mean she'd have to expose her true nature or die if he played things right, and either way he'd be making her life miserable. Though he had to plan how to pull it off, and part of him felt that it was too lenient, and that he should just blow up the whole damn school and be done with it.

Yet that did not hold the same appeal as seeing the dawning horror in her face would. He would strike and bring her down, and then he would take care of the rest of the troublemakers.

It was a shame she'd interfered, he had been planning to blow up Palanquin and Medhall, which would have done wonders to root out some criminals. And probably killed a ton of innocent bystanders but so what, they were mere bugs to be crushed under his heel.

Yet at the same time his power was pushing him, a repeating mental geas shouting at him to act like the Burning Legion, not just some domestic terrorist. He was meant to inspire horror and belief in the end of days, not just skip around using mundane technology and magic to make people suffer. Hell, they were starting to think he was not some unstoppable monstrosity from the stars, come to extinguish their puny planet's life. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all.

Blackjack had been trailing after the wards for a while already when a large explosion could be heard in the distance. He watched the way the young heroes reported it in, and then hurried over towards the site, flying in pursuit. Getting closer, he was briefly wondering if this was between the gangs or something else, but got his answers soon enough when a pair of oversized hounds appeared on the rooftop by the wards, followed by a fireball flying towards them from the air further off, revealed a shimmer a moment later as spells slipped away to reveal Legion.

Vista already stretched the distance between her and the fireball excessively, causing it to detonate well before it would have reached her and the others. Kid Win's laser gun took down a summoned hound in one shot, while Miracle flew straight in swift motion, the hound jumping at him striking a shimmering shield in the air before he delivered a one punch to the skull off the infernal mutt, causing it to yelp and collapse, twitching a couple of times before getting unsummoned.

Blackjack smirked while moving to a better spot it he could help take the foe down, when a crossbow bolt slammed in the back of the flying figure in the air, causing that figure to let out a loud yell and staggering. It didn't seem a lone bolt to the head was enough to kill right away, but the following burst of electricity seemed to do the trick, as that Legion body seemed to turn to ash in mid-air.

The other two summoned new beasts only to be pushed back as Kid Win blasted at one and Miracle pulled out a device from his belt thrown right into the second Legion clone's arms, a blast of containment foam forming before that clone ashed, probably killing itself rather than risking capture. They were fighting back even if it killed them, it seemed.

The last one took a shot in the chest only to throw back a lightning bolt hitting Kid Win hard and making him shriek before dropping, a pair of attack dogs jumping towards him and Vista. Vista took advantage of that to shrink the distance and moving so that the two mutts ended up leaping ahead only to smack into one another rather than into her or Kid Win, before the same power seemed to slam into them from behind, clenching them together with enough force that he saw them yelp and ash, wincing.

Vista could be scary if her power's versatility was fully utilized then.

"Damned brats!" Legion seemed to vanish into thin air a moment later, and while Thomas looked around he couldn't quite detect the man. A cantrip to detect magic saw some dispersing energy, but he wasn't sure where the man was. It didn't seem like invisibility, but he was not entirely certain what it was.

Miracle moved to help Kid Win with her powers, and seemed to fix his health along with his suit easily enough, even as a Shadow Stalker emerged from nearby and dropped on the rooftop.

Figuring he had seen enough for now, he moved away from the scene while frowning. Legion was going to be serious trouble, even more so if he was willing to attack wards with apparent intent to kill. Though that was just three, and he wasn't quite sure about the rest.

He had barely had that thought when he found a pair of spells fizzle and dropped on a rooftop with a smack, the stoneskin he had carried vanishing in an instant as well. Flight, and stoneskin were gone, and he found himself facing a group of three more Legion clones, dropping their own invisibility spells and smirking. Two of them holding pipes, one of them holding an wrench, and all of them looking maniacal.

"Guess what, we got a lot of aggression to take out, and you just volunteered!" The first one stated before rushing in, the shimmer in the air showing him the man had mage armor and shield already on, and based on the bit of bulging muscle on him and his companions, both of them were either magically boosted up to stronger state too, or they might be holding onto Brute rating.

Either way, it was not looking good. Hastily getting up on his feet he received the first blow in the shoulder dodging a swing aimed to smack him in the head, while he heard slam on the roof behind him.

More of them were coming, and he was getting surrounded. Damn it all.

"Dimension door." He created the portal even as an acid arrow struck his gut, a lightning bolt hit his back, and he saw a fireball being conjured and thrown his way already as well.

He managed to pass through the doorway, and witnessed it close behind just before the blast erupted. He was in a nasty shape, but a pair of hands laid against his chest along with a short couple of word chant had him feeling a lot better, repeated again for good measure.

Divine Magic made him right as rain but it was apparent that in a direct fight, Legion could live up to their name for being many, and seriously injure him, or even kill him. Hell, the three of them had seemed interested in just beating up for sport, and he doubted they'd do give him a chance to make use of his dimensional door like that the next time. It was only because of the bombardment of spells that the one closer to him had moved back, probably intending to lash out with a spell of their own too.

He winced as the acid arrow in his guts burst out more of the green corrosive substance again, another healing spell, a lot weaker one, was still sufficient to fix it.

"Seems we've left the little leagues behind then." He muttered to himself while recasting a stoneskin, followed by flight and new invisibility spell.

Yet it troubled him that they'd spotted him in the air. They were learning, employing better tactics, and countering his favored spells. There was some spell to see through invisibility, but that would mean they were preparing specifically to counter him and wasting a spell slot from other use just to maintain something like that.

Meaning that despite their apparent 'madness' and 'insane bloodlust', there was a calculating intellect behind that made the foe all the more dangerous for him.

Author's Note: Got a couple of more chapters in mind but planning on doing a time-skip soon after that, and we'll reach the canon start date once we do. Though I'd say the derailment should already have been sufficient enough to not expect to see this follow the stations of canon that well into the future anyhow.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]

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Sep 23, 2019

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Threadmarks Journeyman 3.4 New

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FrozenTome

FrozenTome

Sep 24, 2019

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#128

Journeyman 3.4

Blackjack was resting back on top of a bed while wincing slightly as he moved. Despite his healing magic, the fact he'd come pretty close to taking a serious beating at the hands of Legion was on his mind, and the healing magic may have washed away the actual damage, but his mind was still going through what had happened.

Being struck with force sufficient to count as low level brute, being burnt by acid in the guts and lightning in his spine, he was battered and bruised in short order by the sheer amount of damage that Legion could deal out in a hurry. The problem for him was the fact that Legion could become many, while he was more or less alone in that fight. The quantity had a quality of its own in that case, and he wasn't really sure just how easy it would be to overcome that disadvantage.

Summons were an option, but they tended to be short term solution as it was. Still, he had decided to try some of them out, on the divine side of his spell selection at least. Beasts that would answer his call and fight for him. It limited his selection but would hopefully differentiate him somewhat from Legion's attacks. Too much similar power usage and people would begin to look at him warily too.

There was also the fact he was pretty sure Legion had a ton of other tricks up his sleeves he had not used yet. He was getting the distinct impression that Legion was still mostly playing with him like a cat with a mouse. He didn't think staying around for long would be healthy for him, but at the same time if Legion decided to stop playing around and get serious he wasn't quite sure he could deal with it at the current state. Especially with the apparent 'immortality' of sorts that he had displayed in getting killed but coming back for more punishment.

Unfortunately Thomas had no memory of such cape come to mind while considering the options, and he was pretty sure it was not something right out of the other options in the 'game' he had been thrown in. There was always the possibility of it being a wild card, a random power and that the foe of his had merely got stupidly lucky with that. If that was true, then he was going to have no luck what so ever at figuring out the exact details. Though that didn't mean that it was wasted effort to at least try and figure out some things about the situation.

Nevertheless, he had decided to stay indoors and rest for the remaining hours of that night, sighing wearily while moving to turn on the television and take a look, frowning as he found a news anchor on screen talking about the Slaughterhouse 9 attack at a small rural town and butchering the people there. It irritated him that Slaughterhouse and similar bastards were running wild out there and he was unable to go and stop them, but at the same time he was well aware that the chances were that he'd get himself killed even faster than pissing around with Legion if he tried. Even if his powers weren't exactly shard-based, that didn't mean he wasn't running a risk of getting kicked in the teeth by Siberian or eaten by Crawler if he tried.

Sighing out and laying back, he paid some attention to the television broadcast while silently wondering if he was being taunted by the bastard that set the whole twisted game up in the first place seeing these things and being unable to stop them.

Taylor was examining her suit in the warehouse that she had claimed for her purposes. The spiders she had acquired were hard at work creating her the materials she needed, and putting the suit together would take a bit more time, but it was still progressing at a good pace.

A little bit of impatience drove her towards conflict, wanting to get out and test herself. Another more practical part of her was quietly waiting for her suit to be ready, and considering what else she might need. Zip-ties, some mace, and while she was reluctant to get a phone for herself she might have to consider it.

The delay her suit's creation brought along with the increased hostile activity in Brockton Bay had left her checking the forums and the net from the library computer on her free time, reading up on helpful little advice, surprised how much of it was on-line, and under relatively simple threads too that would not be too alarming to find in someone's search history. Heck, some of them were flat out referred to in some cape talk about gear that some groups used.

PRT and Protectorate had better gear of course, but there was a lot of talk about independents as well as smaller groups who had found smaller, easily accessible methods to still be viable. The use of bear-mace against brutes was also noted as being surprisingly effective though also a risky idea given the increased rage that would be a rather natural reaction to being exposed to such tactics.

She wanted to go out and do what she could, but she was trying to be careful and prepared. Especially after Legion had shown up. She was not keen on running into him, with insect control as her power. She could always gather a large swarm and attack them by sheer numbers, but she wasn't sure if Legion would be killed that easily.

She had noted that the man had seemed to be getting tougher to kill, and she doubted she was alone in her observations, though there was only a brief idle comments about it on PHO, making her wonder if somehow the question wasn't really spreading.

Then again there was a chance she was unaware of some information that would contradict what she had found out, but she wasn't going to just trust that her swarm could take down Legion, not without some preparations at the very least.

Examining her outfit's current state, she briefly thought back about her former friend and tormentor, but quickly pushed that thought out of her mind. Emma was beyond saving, that much had been made clear, and in all honesty she was feeling foolish for having hold on to feeble hope that it was possible to fix things still, that she'd find the reason.

Emma was a bitch, and Sophia was only making her worse. Things had started when she was away on the summer camp, and Sophia was with Emma. Sophia was also very hostile by nature and Emma seemed to be trying to act the same way in a sense, but none of that excused the stuff they had put her through. The locker just went to show that those three bitches were willing to take bullying to a level where they might have ended up accessories to murder.

Unfortunately principal Blackwell had been quick to get rid of evidence and despite police being informed, they had little to go on, especially with the people that witnessed things deciding to stay quiet to not risk drawing Sophia's ire on their own person.

At some level Taylor could understand it, but that did not mean she would give them another chance to stab her in the back. Greg Veder had been bothering her more recently, not seeming to understand that even if she was an outcast, she wasn't even remotely interested in him. Even less so after the fact he'd been perfectly willing to step aside and do nothing when Taylor had been put in the locker, nor even calling the police or getting help, hell the irritating boy had not even been willing to testify about what he saw.

With that in mind, the chances she'd ever give Greg Veder even a single pity date were not only dead and buried but laid down under a concrete cover in a stone tomb with a sturdy door locked shut.

Sophia Hess was laying back on her bed at the Wards section of the PRT HQ, recovering from being blown out of the warehouse and the lightning bolt hit she's taken. It had hurt like hell, but she'd survived, even if she felt herself shake slightly after the adrenaline ran out. Miracle had helped heal off the worst of it, but Sophia was somewhat wary of the little prick.

Something about Miracle just rubbed her the wrong way, making her way to punch his face in. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was the same sort of irritation she had around Glory Girl, so she had to wonder. The fact Miracle had tanked an attack with a shield had also caught her attention and left her wondering.

She wasn't about to just ask him, not with the level of trust he had acquired in a short time with the other wards, but she wasn't going to really let down her guard around him either.

Sighing wearily, she laid her head down and tried to get some rest while trying to let things lay, wondering idly about whether or not they'd find to put that annoying bastard Legion down sometime soon. The one positive side was that hunting Legion seemed to satisfy most of her bloodthirstiness and need for violence, and nobody complained even if she shot a tazer arrow to the back of the skull of said man. Even if they were officially never meant to be shot at the head out of risk of the damage they could do, and even more so because she had used an anti-brute variant crafted by Armsmaster. Then again, Armsmaster had given it to her specifically to use against Legion, even if he had not probably meant for it to be shot at the head.

Legend was tired after a hard day's work, relaxing with his lover and smiling to the man quietly while thinking. His thoughts tended to focus on work even when he was back home supposed to relax, but it was difficult to let go when things had been going to hell recently.

Eidolon was down, and there was no idea of how long it would last or if it was permanent. The people they had at their disposal had done what they could, but Eidolon was not waking up. Whatever it was that Simurgh had pulled off at Canberra, it seemed obvious that Eidolon had taken the worst of it.

The destruction of a laboratory researching anti-Endbringer weaponry had drawn some interest, and new investments were being made to start building facilities to produce what they could, from partially recovered copies of old prototypes. Most of the recent information had been lost with the building, with hard-copies lost in the destruction as the paranoia of the workers had left them unwilling to have an off-site backup location for their files.

At the same time as they were away Legion had sown terror and destruction across the East Coast. He and his cult had received a harsh and quick response for that, but even if they had put down the madmen that joined with Legion, Legend could not help but feel that there was even worse to come.

The fact remained the captured thugs claimed their power came from the 'Burning Legion', and that they could not share what they'd gained for it was bound to their souls. Which raised further concerns that Legion might be a power-granting Trump, something that even Contessa was quiet about when asked. The silence at the time had said enough to have Legend worry.

As it was, he was considering taking a leave of absence from his current posting, and taking a more direct hand in the current affairs, travelling to Brockton Bay to lend some unofficial support to the local Protectorate and PRT, a vacation of sorts though a working one. After all, he had found that no matter how empowered Legion was, he fell apart under Legend's attack in moments.

Still, Contessa's responses did seem to suggest he was a problem they would need to get rid of soon, because the longer they took the stronger he got. The recent reports had actually had her arguing loudly with Alexandria about sending a lot more resources and support to Brockton Bay, only to be yelled at in turn about ruining their experiment and unpredictable results due to the blind-spots currently present all over the area.

That just meant they should have paid more attention to the problem to correct it in his opinion, but it seemed the others were unwilling to expend the resources to put things in order. He was almost certain they were running some of the meetings without any input from him, and that spoke of the rift between him and the rest of their group. They had to make tough decisions but he was firmly of the opinion that they should have done more, and taking out Legion was certainly one of the more recent, urgent issues they had.

Having made up his mind, he let out a small sigh.

"We need to talk."

"You want to go to Brockton Bay to take down Legion don't you?"

Legend found himself staring at the love of his life in surprise, only to see the man chuckle and smile to him before kissing his lips.

"You have that look on your face and you've been talking about how frustrating he has been to you recently. I agree, ever since his first arrival in Jamestown-"

The two of them fell quiet. One of their good friends had died in the attack, and they were both still mourning the loss of said friend.

"I am not sure how long it will take."

"Take as long as you need. I know how important this is."

Steven laid back onto his bed and let out a sigh at the end of the long day. He had been taking care of a number of things recently, but at the same time he was confident his minions had scouted out and prepared well for some of the future encounters.

He had managed to infiltrate and spread some minions around Coil's lair, having had a few minions tail them back to their hideout, slipping in unnoticed. The information they had sent him later had proven quite interesting read. Coil was a megalomanic, but one with style.

If taking down Coil without ruining his base was a possibility, he was tempted to try and do that, because the Bond-villain styled lair was certainly more impressive than his current set up though that would take a lot of effort, and he wasn't sure if it was worth it given the fact that it was known to a number of mercenaries and a few capes in Coil's employ as well.

Tracking the villain around for a while had allowed Steven to confirm his identity, while his other minions had made sure to locate and track Empire and Merchant capes as well. The ABB were wary but his minions had also located stashes, safehouses, brothels and other businesses they kept, as well as where Oni Lee and Lung laid their head down. Though in case of Oni Lee, it was rarely the same place for long. The man seemed unwilling to stay in one place for too long, a precaution that meant his minions had to keep the man under active surveillance, something that was not easy to pull off with a teleporter.

Blackjack was still eluding him for most part, but he had witnessed enough to tell that he was dealing with the situation with Legion for now, but also leaving him somewhat wary of what lay in the horizon. Still, Legion was making enemies of the entirety of the Protectorate and even if he was now lurking around Brockton Bay that didn't mean the rest of the Protectorate was likely to ignore him for long. They might have been ignoring the Brockton's problems for a long while but having a foe who was under kill orders show up might just convince the higher ups to release additional funding, capes, and PRT agents.

Then again, he was expecting competence and reasonable response from the organization that had proven itself unwilling to lend any help to the Brockton Bay in the past, and politicians wanting to look good for the cameras.

Director Yang was reading through the reports she had recently got her hands on, and frowned slightly while flipping through the pages, one at a time. Sitting in the luxurious office of the CUI officer. She was part of Yangban, and a loyal follower of Shen Yu. She was an intelligent woman and well aware of the fact that while they were strong, they needed to grow further.

What she held in her hands was a number of reports about the Parahuman terrorist in the United States, one known as Legion, and the extent of the destruction he had spread. The fact that he was reported to have even spread some power to others was of particular interest to her. The possibilities of an army trained to use some lesser version of Legion's powers was certainly tempting, as was the apparent possibilities of 'immortality' that he might offer.

Unfortunately their agents in the U.S. were limited, but they did have some contacts. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to acquire the services of the Elite, and have them capture and subdue that man. Sending in some additional forces of their own, there was some risks in the idea but the potential outcome was certainly interesting enough to consider.

She knew she would have to first acquire permission to spend such resources from those above her, but she began to quickly write down a proper proposal for a project to acquire and tame subject Legion, for the Greater Good of the Chinese Union Imperial, and the Yangban.


	7. aom1

Mar 13, 2019

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#1

The Final Years of the intervening Years -The North

24th, 11 moon, 2427 A.W

Winterfell -

The first thing i felt was a return of senses, as if i had been lying under something heavy for a long while, and the burden was lifted, allowing feeling to return to my body.

I heard voices around me…. Several different ones, how many was difficult to say.

It was difficult to hear what they were talking about. I could make out a few words, but it was hard to make sense of them.

I lay there for a while, listening to the voices, it became easier to make out the words they were talking about...

They talked in a language i had never heard before. It sounded somewhat like… Scottish? No gaelic, that was the name for the language.

I'd lived around the isles for a time during my studies, and i'd heard the language spoken many times.

This wasn't that though. There were many words i didn't recognise at all. Wait..

There was one i had heard before, Magnar. It was repeated often along with some other words i didn't understand.

Where had i heard that word before? I could swear i knew it from somewhere…

Oh, right, i remembered now. It was a title from a song of ice and fire.

The magnar of thenn, that was it, and the house of magnar of skagos.

That's where i had heard the word.

Why they were talking so much about a fictional title i dont know.

Who the hell were these people?

Where was i?

I opened my eyes….

And i immediately regretted it, as a bolt of pain shot through my head at the blinding light.

I groaned in pain.

The voices stopped for a moment. Then i heard footsteps as someone approached me.

I could feel a hand that touched my forehead.

A voice saying something about… fever? Yes he was talking about fever, his words began to make sense, but…

I still could have sworn i had never heard any of the words that was spoken before.

It was the voice of an older man. Not the kindest voice i had heard, but there was clear concern in the voice.

"The worst should be over now. Provided he does not overstrain himself before he recovers"

The old man… Tom? Yes, that was his name.

Tom.

Tom, the maester. That was it.

Wait… Maester!?

"Good… That is good. Should we allow the prince to see him?"

The other voice, was familiar too, but i couldn't put a name to the voice. i was far too confused about the maester.

Maester werent real.

Or were they?

Tom was real, he had been there since the start. As long as i could remember, tom had always been there.

"no, our Magnar should not be overstrained by visits yet. He would not be able to talk with the boy at this stage anyhow."

No, tom had not been around since the beginning.

He hadn't been there on the farm, or the city, nor his college years.

He hadn't been there when he moved back to the farm.

"we'll continue with his treatment as before, ill check on him again when the sun goes down.

Hopefully our magnar will be well enough to speak on the morrow.

If he is, the prince can be allowed to see him the day after that. "

But tom had been there in the castle when he had been a boy.

He had been there when brandon first learned to ride a horse.

He had been there when he had first been allowed to carry real steel.

Tom had set his arm when he broke it.

He had treated mother as she lay dying.

"As you say maester"

But mom wasnt dead!

She was still alive, in a home with a failing memory, but still alive.

The sound of people leaving. And then a door closing.

No mother was dead, the winter fever had taken her.

Barbra stark had died 4 years ago.

Memories of a tall woman with long raven black hair crept through my mind.

Clad in heavy furs and leather with a bronze circlet around her head.

A soft face, always ready to smile.

Behind her a red banner with a giant roaring.

A red burning face at the end, burning inside until death claimed her at last.

Barbra stark? No, moms name was Rachael Hillar… Right?

A new, flow of memories, a shorter woman with hair cut short, and a face more angular and sharp.

A woman of few smiles this was.

Her clothing being what one could expect from a modern farmer.

The years went by and the womans yellow hair became grayer, her face more wrinkled, until the light in her eyes dissapeared.

The darkness began to set in, and the last thing i could think of was memories of a farm interwoven with memories of a castle of warm walls and thick stones.

I woke again, this time with a clearer head.

Expecting my room on my farm, i instead woke up to a different room, a room from an elder age.

The first thing that struck me was what i lay under. a giant white bearskin, the hide of a polar bear.

I just kinda stared at it slack jawed for a moment.

Then i looked up at the walls and the rest of the room.

On the walls were white banners.

I would hesitate to call them tapestries, as they looked pretty much like flags that been taken down from a flagpole and hung on the wall.

On them the image of a giant wolf was embroidered.

A crackling hearth burned on one side of the room.

It's charring and searing logs made more heat flow into the surprisingly warm room.

The window wasn't particularly impressive, but it kept the cold out.

A diamond shaped piece of glass of primitive design, but still insulated. Outside snow fell.

Memories flowed into me, memories of a life i had never lived.

A life that was not supposed to be real.

But i didn't contemplate it. Not yet.

Instead i forced myself to stand up and go to the window.

My body felt stiff, like i had not moved around in a long time now.

As i saw out the window, i saw a morning sun over a snow covered courtyard, several men in fur that made them look like overgrown seals shoveling snow.

And walls….

A hundred feet tall, covered by snow and ice.

All along the wall were towers, hard, tall, round and strong.

I stared out the window in this castle of snow for a while, still in shock.

Eventually i managed to force myself to look away from the castle of ice, to take in the rest of the room.

Several chests with iron bands, a chamber pot, A table with stools and upon it…

A crown of bronze, iron and the insides laced with fur. It's spikes were in the form of longswords, and all around the crown there were engraved runes.

I went to the table, sat down and took hold of the crown. I raised it to my eyes, and began to read.

The runes spelled out various words, winter, king, strong, endure and…. Stark.

Reality began to set in, and i began to cry.

Oh god. This was real.

I just kept crying

I was still crying when the maester came into my room two hours later.

Tom wore a worried look, but his voice was steady.

"my magnar?... How are you feeling?"

I blinked my tears away, or at least tried to.

I then began to wipe away the tears with the back off my hands.

Tom reach into a pocket and produced a piece of cloth and handed me it.

He set down on the stool opposite mine but remained silent as i wiped away my tears.

Finally, i had dried my face of my tears and my tears had stopped for the most part.

God i hoped it had.

Tom finally spoke "My magnar, may i… ?"

I had no idea what he wanted, but i nodded.

He reached his hand and laid it over my forehead.

"It would seem like your fever has broken. That is good news"

Tom reached over and picked up the cloth, put it back in his pocket, then pulled out another cloth and began to clean up the top pf the table where my tears had spilled on it.

"Shall i presume that you do not wish for company today my magnar?"

I shook my head.

"No. Mayhaps… on the morrow. I just… Want to be alone for a while."

Tom nodded, and began to rise. "As you say."

Tom put the second cloth piece in his pocket and began to walk out. As he stood to open the door he stopped, looked over at me and said

"It's not shameful to be afraid before battle Brandon, and it is better to let it out here where no one can see… ."

his face hardened.

"But you will have to conquer it my king. Before spring comes at that. The Redarm will be far less forgiving of weakness than this old man."

and with that he opened the door, walked out and gently closed the door.

God. What a fucking mess.

I finally started to accept the bloody truth. I was in westeros, somehow i had taken over the body of brandon stark, the king of winter, 38th, or 34th of my name depending on how many of the damned stark legends were accurate.

and oh, it couldnt be an era of peace, during the 5000 years between the end of the andal invasions and the coming of Aegon. Where the kings of winter were uncontested rulers of the north with no challengers other than the odd invasions of ironborn and wildlings. oh no, that would have been to simple.

No, I was right in the middle of the andal invasions of westeros, there were rumors of an andal invasion from the south, the boltons were still ruling as the red kings of the dreadfort. And the king in the east was Royce the 4th, the Redarm. Who historically had been the second man to take and burn winterfell.

And i would have to face him, come spring.

Fuck my Life.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Mar 13, 2019

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Kingofwinter

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Mar 14, 2019

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#6

I stood over a map laid out over my table. An old and rugged thing it was, bad quality paper(at least by modern standards),

and worn with lines where it had been folded and rolled out countless times.

The ink though was fresh, as it had been renewed only 3 years before.

The map lines were a map of the north. Relatively correct too from what i could tell.

Skagos was about 5 times to large but hey, you couldn't get everything.

The coastlines might be a bit off too, but i didn't have a book map to compare it to.

Not that it mattered. The important thing was the dividing line between west and east, where the domains of the Kings of Winter ended and the Red Kings began.

It was a line that from what Brandon's father King Jon had said had changed a fluctuated over the years.

The land of Dawnforest in particularly being a much fought over battleground.

That was where the first battles of the coming wars would be fought all knew.

A bit southeast of winterfell and southwest of the dreadfort, it was the place the only reasonably useable road between winterfell and the dreadfort lay.

Before the levy armies marched after the first planting, there would be clashes of the north's elite warriors there.

And if one side smashed the other decisively?

Well then the road would be open to raid into the heartlands of the others.

That would be catastrophic for the war effort.

What the map did not tell me however was the terrain.

The smaller rivers and hills which would make or break a battle wasn't on it.

That was a problem, especially when trying to plan a war strategy.

I was interrupted in my musings on war by a knock on the door. "My Magnar? " a high female voice asked.

"Come in" I replied tiredly.

In my old life i might have been glad for a level of authority where no one dared to enter my rooms without my permission,

but here it had gotten tiresome fast, whether servants, the maester Tom or my master of Arms, now that i was up and about again, none entered without knocking and me giving permission.

A serving woman came in carrying a wooden tray with food a a jug of mead.

She was a pretty woman with a long flowing red hair, mid twenties.

"Thank you, Harra" i said as she put the tray down on my table.

"How fares your Son?" i asked, attempting to make some smalltalk.

"He's well my magnar." she smiled "The winterchill did not claim him, the gods be good.

His fever broke and he's up and about again." Her smile slowly vanished as she continued

"none died here in the castle, thank the gods but Lord Wull says the outbreak in the wintertown were more severe.

some twenty men has died so far, and many more are still sick."

Well, that was just great news, my castle town of 24000 people was facing a potential outbreak of disease.

Winterchill was not the most deadly disease in the world, it certainly wasn't anywhere close to the similarly named "The Shivers", or the Terrible "Winter Fever".

But it was a disease which could lay an adult man low if the disease was allowed to get worse.

Given that the best cure was to remain warm and not be exposed to more cold, it was a disease which one did not wish to get during Winters.

If my maester was to be believed, this Winter would last several months still at least, the spring had shown signs of being around the corner, but had been slow in it's coming,

if it was indeed nearing the end of winter at all. The possibility of a false spring was a spectre that i really did not want to contemplate right now.

either way, spring was months away.

returning to my conversation i just said "That is grievous to hear. Let us Pray to the Gods, it does not strike the entire town.".

Harra nodded and turned to leave, when i said "When you get down, send for Maester Tom and Harren. I have need of both of them. also…"

I hesitated for just a moment… then. "Tell the castle that i intend to dine with them again later today…. My brother will no doubt be overjoyed to hear it".

Harra nodded affirmatively, and left me to enjoy my meal in peace, a glorious breakfast fit for a king.

Warm Bread alongside Butter, some Cheese and some primitive but still delicious Blackberry Jam.

Alongside it was a Full honeyed Chicken, the crown of this feast, which i, being an uncultured farmer, started with first of course.

I cleaved the chicken up into large pieces with my knife, then ripped them apart with my teeth as i began to eat. God, it was good.

People in modern day bitched about how our ancestors was awful at tech and everything was so much worse back in the day.

But human taste buds were the same as it was thousands of years ago, and Well made food was as good then as it was….

Now?

The future?

Back on Earth?

Well whatever, point is, that food is good, no matter the period.

As i was finishing up with the unfortunate fowl, my maester and my most trusted warrior finally came in.

Tom was his usual self, a tall Spindly Man, with a robe that looked like it was meant for a man 4 times his width.

his face was riddled with wrinkles from a long life, his face sharp and narrow, and his eyes did not show the whatever worry he had shown for me two nights ago.

he was bald, but he did have a moustache, and some short beard.

Harren, an older warrior in the service to the king of Winter, was a different sort of man, with little in common with the Maester, except sharing an advanced Age.

Harren was in his late fifties, but still built like a barrel. Round and wide, with arms thick as a giant anaconda, he was also somewhat short, being half a head shorter than me and my average height.

His face was kinda similar to tv Stannis, but wider, and with two massive horizontal scars across his forehead.

A souvenir he had gotten from a Bear Hunt if his own tales could be believed.

As usual, he had a dour annoyed expression, on his face looking at me with my near finished chicken.

Harren was the first to speak "You had need of us our Magnar?"

I grinned at them, "Sit Down. We've got much and more to discuss."

Both sat down as i reached over and moved the tray over to the side of the table, with it's remaining food.

I would not get to enjoy the bread warm, but i didn't see that as a huge loss.

"Well, i'm sure you're wondering why i've brought you here" i began diplomatically.

Harren would have none of that.

"Well, one can assume it is related to Warcraft and the coming battles with the flayed men,

unless of course you simply wanted us to enjoy the sight of you enjoying your glorious morning meal."

Harren replied dryly.

"Aye, Warcraft it is" i said as my smile faded.

i guessed it was simpler to just jump right into things.

"I've been thinking about the coming strategy, and there are some… let us call them problems with the current plans."

Neither said anything to that, and just waited for me to continue.

"I also have some ideas for the opening stages of the war, which i want your opinions on."

I folded out the map of the north between us.

"The Big problem" i began "That i come back to again and again, is the opening of the war."

I pointed at Dawnforest.

"Our great advantage over the Boltons is the total amount of Manpower we can bring to bear.

Our total number of troops number is well over 10000 men, while Royce's is only 6000 to 7000 men all in all. A massive numerical advantage all in all."

Tom looked at me silently, waiting for me to continue, but Harren snorted.

"Aye, that's about the total amount of Men we have, all through the north, that's true, but you'd be a fool to think that we can gather all of them before the big battles come."

He eyed me with a hard look.

"That was Rickon's the Undone's folly 300 years ago. He relied on the greater numbers of men he could bring to bear, thinking he could gather them all into one place then smash Royce's host to pieces.

Royce gathered his men from his much smaller kingdom much quicker and fell upon his main host before the men of Last heart, cape cracken and the rills could join him.

A pained expression flashed over Harrens Face.

"Then, after his victory over the main host, Royce easily dispatched the 3 other hosts one by one.

And may i remind our Magnar that Royce the Second Only had 4000 men when he meet Rickon's host. he outnumbered him by 2000 men, and he still lost.

The Boltons arrows made a field of pincushions out of him and his army."

Harren Sighed as he continued, though now with a more melancholy tone in his voice.

"The Red King today is much stronger than his ancestors was back then, and with the land he took in the peace deal, we emerged much weaker as well.

The conquest of Warg Kings lands did not make up for all the lands the boltons took from us."

I let Harren talk without interruption and didn't reply before he finished, when i said.

"Aye, thats what ive been thinking as well.

IF we can manage to unite all our hosts into one, then we would have the advantage of more men.

There are other things to do as well before the big fights begins, but the first move of the war HAS to be to unite all our men into one massive host."

"Once that has been achieved, we can commit to the real decisive battle."

I once again pointed at Dawnforest.

"Dawnforest will be the critical point. Neither we nor the Redarm, can field our true army until the first planting is done lest we all starve, whichever the victor."

"Our Smallfolk will not be able to be called to battle, before that all critical first planting is done.

Thus, the first Fight, will be with our elite Warriors clashing together. And they will do so here, in Dawnforest."

Harren looked at down at Dawnforest and said.

"It's the most likely spot for an opening attack into the heartland of our kingdom, that is true,

but even if he does beat us at Dawnforest, it's not a guarantee to a successfull attack into our lands. after all…"

He pointed just west of Dawnforest.

"He would still need to cross the river, and there are no other bridges over here before way down stream.

And one cannot ford the river in spring before the spring floods stop. we could simply fall back to the river and hold the bridge, daring him and his precious archers to cross."

"That we cannot do" The maester replied.

"We will also need to cross the river once our army has fully assembled.

if we just let him take Dawnforest, it will be us, who will need to either fight across the bridge, or seek crossing downstream, then a long march up the river back again."

"I agree" I cut in. "We need to beat the boltons at Dawnforest then hold it as our armies can assemble fully and cross unmolested"

Harren Raised an eyebrow.

"And how do you intend to do so our Magnar? The Boltons biggest Advantage is their much smaller need for travel time.

Even if we call the banners with the instruction to only gather all of our elite warriors, the levies to be left on their own for the moment,

we still need to gather them all at winterfell or directly at Dawnforest,

which will take a massive amount of time, while King Bolton can gather his forces much quicker to meet us in the dawnforest, levies or no."

I smiled, with what i hoped was a confident grin.

"Well, i had some plans to call upon a force we rarely call upon for war, yet one who has proven time and again, to be the greatest shield, our kingdom could ever hope for…..

Some time later, Harren walked out to carry out my orders.

He had a rather awful journey ahead of him, and i daresay he was in quite the foul mood as he walked out.

But he was a loyal man, who would obey and carry out his orders.

I hoped.

I sat left with the maester, as i poured myself a cup of mead.

"So. what do you think?" i asked the Maester, before i took a drag of the cup.

Tom's expression was neutral, and so was his vocie as he replied

"It's a decent plan my Magnar, one that could work…. provided that your subjects are as capable as you deem them to be."

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"But i severely doubt it is my opinion on the opening strategy is what you wish from me.

I am neither experienced in nor have i studied the arts of war, the way Harren has.

You wish something else of me i have no doubt."

I contemplated the remaining mead before i answered. It was a good Drink.

A man should be allowed to drink before he unleashed hell on earth, should he not?

But then again, this was Westeros. It was hell already. Would this really make the world such a worse place?

"Aye…. i have some need of you", i pulled out a piece of paper from my pocket, then i handed it to him.

"This is a list of certain…. Materials, which i need to know if you can procure for me. It needs to be in large numbers i'm afraid."

The Maester looked over the short list with a curious and puzzled look.

"I… think we should be able to be able to acquire all of these, though not before winter ends i'm afraid. Charcoal should be simple enough. Sulfur…." The old man look puzzled.

"Sulfur is far more common amongst the lands around the dreadfort that is true, but there ARE places north of Winterfell where it can be found. But…"

"Niter?" The old man looked at me with complete bewilderment.

"I must admit i'm surprised you even know what Saltpeter is, much less that you know it by such an obscure name, and even less than that, that you want it in great amounts…

My Magnar, i know it is not my place to ask, but… what do you intend to use these things for?" he looked down on the paper and up at me again.

"I am aware of nothing which these three things can create which could possibly be of much use to us in the fights to come.

what do you intend to make with these things?"

Death, i thought.

Out loud, i said "Victory, Tom. Victory."

The Maester looked at me as if i had just declared that turnips would hence be kings of all men.

I put on my best Smile. "Trust me Tom. Just get me these things, and i'll take care of the rest."

Tom stared at me, then he nodded slowly. "It Shall be done my king".

The Maester walked out. I could tell his gait was very different than when he entered.

The Energy had gone out of his steps.

Mayhaps he thought i was mad.

Maybe i was.

I was bringing the most deadly invention of all time to this unsuspecting world.

I couldn't hope to create a modern practical version of firearms, even if i had the knowledge of how to do so(which i did not), i did not have the time.

But i could aim lower.

Something less complex.

Either way, i would need to make a visit to the smith Guild of Wintertown later that day. But first, i needed to do something i had been putting off for way too long already.

I had to go meet my Family.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

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#19

I walked across the recently recently shoveled courtyard between the first keep and Winterfell's great hall.

I didnt have a good image of how winterfell's layout was supposed to look in the books, but i didnt think it was quite like this.

The first keep and the four gates were probably relatively the same. Everything else though….

By far the biggest change was the hot spring. Oh, not a building for bathing, an actual literal hot spring in the north western part of the castle.

Beneath the inner walls and west of the north gate. I guessed it lay roughly where the winterfell glass gardens would lie if the existed. They did not.

In fact there were a lot of things that didnt exist here. The winterfell of this age was a a castle where all the mayor buildings hugged along the inner walls.

One could go pretty much anywhere by going through the inner castle walls, without ever having to go outside.

This did of course have the big drawback of making travels between each castle part much longer than the direct journey across the courtyard.

And what a courtyard it was. A massive plain of white snow, that stretched from wall to wall. Not that one could see that while walking over it. Roads shoveled through frosty snow, made the field seem like a labyrinth from the ground with the snow roads forming corridors reaching up to my shoulders. Which were relatively low as far as winter snow could fall.

I was not an expert in snow, but there had to be a better way than this.

Something to deal with in spring i suppose.

After a while i finally reached my goal. The guest hall. Despite it's name, this was where winterfell's court ate it's s food, whether there were guests or no.

As it happened though, there were a lot of guests in the castle at the moment. My originally plan was for me to make a dramatic entrance through the main door. That plan fell on it's face as the door wouldn't budge.

Of course it didn't. The way one kept most outer doors closed in this day and age were a wooden bar across on the inside, weather for defence or just to make sure the doors were shut.

A smaller detail brandon would have known as a fact of life and would never have forgotten, but for me it was a smaller detail i had mostly missed.

I cursed and contemplated knocking hard and make them open it, but i thought better of it.

The entire point of the whole main entrance was to make a dramatic scene heralding my return. If i couldn't have that, then all i'dd do was open up and let warmth flow out for no real reason.

Instead i made my way to a side door in the wall a bit away from the guest house. This door did thankfully have a proper way to open it, a primitive and ugly thing of bronze and iron, but a functional door handle nonetheless.

No lock though. Were door locks a thing in the early iron age? I didn't know. Yet another thing i didn't know.

As i opened the room and made my way through the wall towards the guesthall, i heard voices. Some obviously drunk, some argumentative. A murmur of noise and cacophony. I reached out to the door, and paused.

I steeled myself, and took a deep breath. Then i opened the door.

As i walked in, i wasn't immediately noticed and most went on about their business.

A couple of mountains boys i knew as boy's of houses Wull and Knott were bitching at each. Both were around 12, and hated each other for reasons brandon had never enquired about.

At the side of the Wull was an older boy deep in his cups, the young lord Eddard Wull. He had been fostered at winterfell as a favor from my father to his.

His father had died unexpectadly during the winter however, leaving my foster brother as the new lord.

Around the hall were other members of the north's noble houses.

A set of ryswell twins whose wardship was a guarantee for their father's good behavior.

Tons of nobility from the mountains and the wolfswood whose fathers had sent them here for the winter.

Several lordlings who had offices of various kinds in the mess that was my iron age government.

Some houses were only marked by their absence though.

The Umbers, Dustin's and the Woodfoots of bear islands were only noted by none of their banners being there.

The Umbers were bound to me by my mother's blood, who had been an umber, sister of the current lord. Hopefully that should make him loyal enough.

The Dustins… I had no idea why, but apparently my father had entered into a deal with the Dustins that they would secretly foster the boy for the future when spring came. Given what historically happened to winterfell during my reign, that was probably a wise precaution.

And then there was the woodfoots. I didnt know jack shit about them, and neither did brandon either, other than knowing they had about 800 men to bring from bear island.

My musings on the families who ruled the north was brought to an end as people finally noticed me. For a brief moment, there were silence around my section of the hall.

Then there were cheers and roars. The cheers only grew louder as the rest of the hall, suprised by sudden expolsion of sound saw up to see what the fuzz was about. Then they joined in.

I simply smiled and tried not to let it show how bloody awkward it felt to receive praise of any kind, much less for just walking into the room.

As i walked up to my high seat, the men all around slammed their cups on the table, while chanting various things.

"The King of Winter Lives!" being the most common one.

It would have been touching to think that all these men simply loved me(or rather Brandon) enough to celebrate my recovery with such clamour.

But the more cynical side of me wondered if the fact that if i had died, then my 9 year old brother would have been king wasn't the main reason.

This was not the time for a boy king regency and all here knew it.

As i neared my own high seat and table, lord Wull rose and lifted his Cup.

"Our king Rises!" he roared, "And with him comes spring!" then he drank the entire cup in one go, swayed for a second and fell over the table unconscious.

As i continued to the high table, two of his fellows lifted him up and carried him out. Brandons memories told me this was a regular occurance with the lord of the mountains.

As i finally reached the high table, i finally got to see the person i had dreaded to meet. The heir to the north. Prince Rickard Stark, my little brother.

This 9 year old boy terrified me more than any of these other grown ass men ever could.

I had never been good with children. Nor had i had siblings of my own in my old life. In fact i had never married, specifically because i did not want to have to deal with children.

Yet here i was, standing before a young boy who i was the guardian off.

Rickard Stark was no one's image of a king. Small and scrawny even for his age, he could easily have passed for several years younger than he was.

Across his face were pox marks from an earlier bout with the disease which had nearly killed him a couple of years back. The lack of several teeth which he had recently lost and hadnt grown back yet did not add to his image either.

To say he did not fit the image of a handsome young prince would be like saying Tyrion was a bit short.

I couldn't have cared less, but the lords of the north would. A small, pox marked boy, was not the sort of rallying point for a kingdom that had just lost it's king.

As i walked to to the table, the boy was showing a grin of joy showcasing his still developing mouth to the fullest.

I put on a smile i begged and hoped was convincing and said.

"Brother, i hear you've been keeping my hall warm in my absence? I hope it wasn't too cold for you."

The young boy raised himself from his chair and blurted out

"it-it wasnt! Our hall is as warm as when you left!"

The words streamed out of the boy's mouth as if he were afraid they would burn his tongue if they didnt get out fast enough.

I heard some snickering behind me as the cheers were dying down.

"That is good to hear Brother, and i'm glad you took to the role of host so well"(I really hoped he had done well, it would be painfully awkward if he'd been a shitty host).

Then i turned around and addressed the hall.

"As for you my lords, it brings me joy to know that i have such a band of leal and loyal men beneath my roof, and it warms my heart to know that you all are so rejoiced at my recovery"

I left my doubts of truth unsaid and continued.

"As for spring as… As our lord of Wull said, there is indeed news of spring. The maesters have seen the sign, and maester Tom is hopeful we shall see the end of winter soon."

New cheers, though not as loud.

Tom had actually been far less optimistic than i made it sound, but he had said he thought spring would come not too long into the future.

A few months maybe.

I walked around the table and sat down, and ruffled Rickards hair.

"You did well" Was all i said to him at the moment before my master at arms began to ask me questions about Harren, and where he had been sent.

Rickard was shaking a bit, and blushing out of something i thought was embarrassment. But other than that he remained silent and ate his meal without saying anything.

When we were alone though, in the first keep, he grabbed me and began crying into my furs and leather.

I wasn't exactly completely surprised, but again, i wasn't good with kids.

In the end i decided to bend down and hug him back while patting his back softly.

Best to just let him cry himself done.

After maybe 10 minutes the tears began to stop, and he began to form clear sentences. The first i could make out was pretty obvious statements like "you're alive" and "I'm so glad you're alive".

I put some distance between us so i could look him in the eyes as i began to talk.

"Aye, i'm alive, and i mean to continue to be so Rickard ".

Rickard sniffed

"Tom said you'd die! And Sansa…. Sansa says you'll still die! That the Boltons will kill you"!

"Did she now?"

Sansa Stark was… A weird child if Brandons memories were serving me right. Creepy would be the words i would use. And maybe… Something more.

Brandon had not been one to take his sister doomsayings seriously, which given that there were still warg and giants in the north, showed that he had been as non genre savvy as they come.

"I'll talk to Sansa. Don't worry about it Rickard. For now… Thanks for playing the part of host while i was sick. It was very important work you did."

"Tom… Tom said it was important. That the men had to feel like you… You would be fine."

"Aye. It was. Thank you little brother"

I ruffled his hair, and he gave me a weak smile.

A knock on the door interrupted us, and Rickard jumped in surprise and began to frantically clean his face on his sleeve.

Not wanting to embarrass him, i began walking to the door and said.

"I'll be right there."

Outside,i meet my steward, a man by the name of Edric.

"My Magnar, you had need of me?"

"Aye" i said with a smile "I need you to arrange a summon of the leaders of the blacksmithing guild. Ill meet them early on the morrow."

"As you say my Magnar. Which one of the blacksmithing guilds do you want me to contact?"

I frowned.

"there are more than one?"

"Oh yes" The middle aged steward replied enthusiastically.

"There is the guild for mail, the one for axe heads, the sword making guild, the silversmiths, the ones for nails and such. A couple more i think."

"I… See"

It would seem that the guild system was a bit more complex than i had assumed.

"in that case i need all those who work in iron and steel. The ones that does silver i don't care about at the moment."

Edric paused.

"Then… You wish for me to call the steel maker guild as well?"

"Aye? Is there a reason i shouldn't?"

"Your father did not want the steel makers to mingle with other guilds my Magnar. They might spread the knowledge on steelmaking beyond their forges at wintertown."

I stared at him for second. For a moment i felt the need to make some snarky comment on how that would terrible.. Until i realised he was serious.

"Call them with the rest" i said in an annoyed tone.

"Also, send me someone who knows the guild's history. I wish to hear it's history before i meet with the guilds on the morrow"

I needed to read up on steel and iron history it seemed.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

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Mar 27, 2019

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#34

It was a cold but sunny day over winterfell as the various guild's leadership began to stream into the castle for their respective appointments with their king.

I had added several other guilds to my meeting list. Most notably the guild for making rope. Because of course there was a guild for making rope. If it could be made in wintertown, then there was a guild for it in wintertown.

At least most of the guilds were practical. No bs guilds for frivolities here. That however, did not make them any less damnably complex.

As the leaders for the first guild i had called entered the room i had prepared for my sketches, models and explanations i considered how i was gonna have to force these guilds to move on to other fields of work as their previous work became obsolete.

The chainmail guild being a perfect example, of a craft which would be worthless in the next 10 years.

My first instinct when i had decided to add gunpowder weaponry to my armies was to go full in with flintlock muskets and bayonets.

I might not be able to make modern cartridge guns, but surely i could make napoleonic era muskets.

After all, i knew how to make both flintlock mechanisms and gunpowder. How hard could it be to figure out a design for the gun itself?

Damnably hard as it turned out. I had sat with sketches in ink on shitty paper for half a day before i gave up.

I might have the two most crucial parts of the design for a workable gun, but without knowing exactly how to put it together with the inner workings of the gun, it was worthless.

Flintlock guns would come down the line. But i did not have to the time to hammer out a working design, then teach it to my smiths, then for them to hammer out it's kinks, and THEN for them to become really good at making them.

Workable guns in large numbers were half a decade away at BEST. And that wasn't even taking into consideration me having to form an organization for making gunpowder, then having to figure out how to make paper cartridges.

From what i knew of cannons, they were apparently much easier to make. But, i had no idea how to make them. So jack load of good that did me.

Either way, i would not have guns when i faced Redarm. So i would aim lower.

In the case of this meeting, i would be focusing on a simple piece of tech that needed no gunpowder.

The first guild leaders entered the room, 5 men, from 2 different guilds. The nail maker guild and the iron maker guild. The latter one being responsible for making iron bars, they would be remaining after the other two had left.

The 5 men approached me with varying expressions.

Some eager, some worried, some stoic and some confused.

Either way, it was the same reaction from all of them once they actually reached me. A bended knee, and the same phrase "Our Magnar".

"Rise", i said, not particularly caring about etique at the moment.

Getting these men to work was the important thing. I couldn't care less about ceremony.

"I thank you for coming my guild masters. I hope my sudden summons did not interrupt your craft?"

An older man from the Nail makers quickly answered "We serve at our magnars command."

One of the leaders of the Iron Makers gave the Nail Maker a quick aside glance before turning to me and following that with "The Nail Makers are at your disposal our Magnar."

I wondered whether any of these men had ever actually meet their king. Brandon had never taken interest in any of the guilds, and i didn't know if his father had either.

Either way, they were very stiff when talking to me, as if afraid i'dd throw them out on the first sign of displeasure.

Then again maybe they just wanted royal favour and did not want to anger me.

In any case All of them made glances over at my guards and their spears.

"Excellent! Let us jump into it then." I turned and walked to one of the tables while making a gesture for them to follow.

"As you can well guess this is a matter of war, and there is something i wish for you to create for me. Something which i hope the nail maker guild in particular guild would be well suited for."

I picked up one of the wooden miniatures i had one of the castle boy's fond of such craft carve me.

"In the various Andal invasions of our kingdom, the damned warhorses of the andals has always been the biggest threat. Oh, the smallfolk always talk of men armored and armed in steel, but it's the warhorses capable of carrying such a man that is the real problem. "

"Fighting such a force is difficult and requires a lot of spearmen. And men with discipline not to charge after a running foe"

I held up the miniature for all of them to see.

"Which is why i decided to make a simpler, more effective way to deal with cavalry."

"I call it…. The Heelbreaker!"

What it was was a caltrop. I had decided early that i would give all my inventions new names rather than try and explain the original names. In particularly because i didn't always know. For one thing i had no idea what a caltrop was named after.

Following my declaration there followed a moment of confused silence, before one of the horseshoe makers carefully replied.

"It's…. Uhmm…. An interesting piece our Magnar."

My smile did not die despite their obvious it kinda grew.

"It's four nails hammered together in such a way that, if thrown on the ground, one spike will always point upwards."

Some of them got it then, but most didn't and kept staring at me confused.

I theatrically sighed.

"What it means is that if i had a dozen of these thrown on the ground it would prevent any force, cavalry or foot to cross over them, lest they impale their own feet."

At that their expressions changed drastically, from confused to eager.

Even my guards looked up curiously at that.

One of the nail makers spoke up while looking carefully at the wooden caltrop.

"And you wish for us to create these before the war. How many do you wish for our Magnar?"

"However many you could make before the armies march. I will need several hundred before spring at least."

I turned to the iron makers.

"We do have enough iron for that right?"

The old man stroked his beard as he answered.

"Aye. We have more than enough to make many thousands if need be. But…"

He looked at me with squinting eyes.

"We were told you had several other projects you wished to make? We would need to know these other projects before we could give you a good estimation for how many we could make."

"Of course" i replied with a smile.

I turned to the rest and continued.

"Can i assume then that the nail maker guilds will be capable of begin making these today?".

One of the nail makers eagerly replied.

"Aye our Magnar! We shall begin work on this, this very day."

"Good. Then i recommend you get to it. You will have a busy number of days ahead of you."

The nail guild began to clear out. And as the final one of them left, my steward entered.

"Our Magnar, shall i call in the next guild masters?" Edric asked, as eager and enthusiastic as usual.

"Aye."

As he went out and summoned the next set, i looked over at the ironmakers who were looking at the rest of my models and sketches with obviously peaked interest.

Man this was going to be a long day.

The caltrops had been the easy one,as it really only needed one guild to make and the iron to make it off.

It was a mindboogingly simple weapon, that i was surprised hadn't been invented yet. Maybe the andals had, but the first men most certainly had not.

Oh well, it would be me who enjoyed the advantage then. Bolton neither had, nor did he have any warning about what he would have to deal with. Caltrops mixed with the venoms of the neck would kill many a flayed man in the days to come.

Next up on the list of guilds was the steel maker guild who had monopoly of making steel.

The guild had an interesting history, and was a classic example of feudal politics screwing everyone over.

Following the collapse of house Mudd in the riverlands, the entire region became a mess of rising and falling kingdoms, as the region was want to do. This warring states period had lasted for two centuries, before house Justman had risen and hammered the riverlords into a kingdom once more.

But before that, the 200 years of endless wars had seen refugees and tradesmen flee the region in all directions. Andal and first men alike had left the region for any lord who could protect them.

The kings of winter, in a move which reminded me of nothing so much as their adoption of canon house manderly, had welcomed these refugees with open arms as long as they renounced the seven.

This had especially been the case with blacksmiths who knew how to work steel, who had gotten a warm welcome to wintertown itself…. And then had never left it, for the kings of winter had been adamant that they and only they would have access to steel in the north.

Thus rather than a booming economy of steel, the steel making guild exclusively worked in wintertown with limited avenues for future expansion.

It was the same shortsightedness which made the riverkings refuse to give city charters to developing towns.

Of course by now the steel makers undoubtedly enjoyed their monopoly on steel making, and just wanted expansion to other cities and the like.

Which is why they would be pretty pissed when i forcibly combined them with the iron maker guild later that day.

The iron makers would no doubt be overjoyed, and so would everyone who hammered in steel and wanted more of it.

Guilds worked by monopolies, and like lords and their land, it was a privilege they guarded jealously.

Unlike lords though, guilds couldn't muster men for war. Which meant that there wasn't really much they could do to stop me from hammering them into another guild. Other than bitch about it to the other guilds of course.

With the guilds i didn't actually want to anger them though. I wanted them to be productive and like me as their patron. With the steel makers though, there was only one thing to do. Break the monopoly so that all smiths in the North would get access to steel eventually.

I was far more concerned about the guilds after the steelmakers, because it was them i needed to make the crown of my warfare plans. Bombs. Maybe i wouldn't have access to guns or cannons in the coming days but i would have plenty of bombs to render castle walls to rubble, and smaller grenades for for personal combat.

Here though, i would need to have several guilds cooperate to create my devices if war. I was introducing division of labour, which was certain to piss off my guilds. I would also deny any of them monopolies on gunpowder weapons of any kind. Which i had no doubt would piss them off even more.

In the long run, i was going to make crown owned organisations for everything related to the making of gunpowder and weapons using it. But for now, i needed the guilds, and to get what i wanted out of them i would undoubtedly step on more than a few toes.

As the steel makers entered i sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Last edited: Mar 27, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#43

The air was scolding and hot, which was a pretty dramatic difference against the freezing air just a few steps away.

After having dealt with the last of the guild masters, i had decided to go and inspect the pool of hot water in the north west and clear my head a bit.

The meeting with the guild masters had gone as expected for the most part. Up until i came to the helmet maker guild.

The reaction to being forced to either be forcibly joined with another guild or having to work together with other guilds had gone as expected. Lots of passive aggressiveness and protests. But for all their grumbling they had gone along with it. They didn't really have much choice, but i was glad they went along with it without me having to force them on sword point.

The reactions to my explanation of gunpowder and it's effect had awakened various reactions from the guild masters.

Scepticism, interest, awe, boredom.

Some saw the potential, while others doubted the effect would be nearly as effective as i described. Others obviously didn't think any of it was a real thing. Those were the ones who shut up and didn't say anything.

But none had actually questioned me about the origins of my knowledge of the substance. Presumably they had known better than poke a sleeping wolf.

Right up until the helmet maker guild.

One of the leaders, a young man in his late teens had been the one to actually ask the question. If he had been one who believed in the gunpowder being an actual real thing it might have ended there, but no, he was a sceptic. A hostile one at that.

When i had bluntly told him that where i had gotten the knowledge was none of his business. He had, with the sense of invulnerability that only youth could give, bluntly questioned what sort of simpleton would redirect his entire preparation for war on an imaginary black powder which did not exist.

He had put it a lot more insultingly than that, and way more long winded. Having dealt with far worse back home though, i had decided to just let him finish before i had him thrown out on his ass.

Once he stopped talking i had motioned for one of my guards. Said guard had nonchalantly walked up to him and instead of grabbing him, he had instead backhanded him with a mailed fist, so hard it knocked out 4 teeth and broke 2 more.

It had been a sharp reminder of how violently this era and world was. A common man did not insult a king to his face beneath his roof. Not in the North. Not anywhere.

His compatriots had all winced but none of them had risen to the man's defence. My guards didn't say anything either, just waited and looked at me to see if i would order them for more.

I did not. I had been horrified. After that there hadn't been any more questions from the helmet makers. But any sense of enthusiasm was gone. Only obedience remained. Great. Fucking perfect.

I had told Tom to take a look at at the poor guy before i sent them on their way, which was more than most kings would have done i was sure.

In any case he had pulled out his broken teeth and given him some brew to dull pain.

I had been tempted to cancel the rest of the guild meetings for that day. But i had decided against it. Better to try and establish a decent relationship with the rest of the guild before the stories about this was spread out.

I wanted to establish a friendly relationship with the guilds. For which this would be a cancer for any future dealings with them. This incident would be spread around and be changed in telling. Of that i had no doubt. I would be retold as a king who tolerated no one questioning me who would break a man's jaw for backtalk.

Which would not lead to an environment of warmth and loyalty.

After the rest of the meetings were finally done, i had gone to the pool of hot water to recollect myself and consider what i would do with this life giving pool.

If i had remembered the maps of winterfell right, then this was where the starks had decided to raise their greenhouse or glass garden as they called it.

There were none here though. Just a giant pool of boiling, rising water. I had often wondered why the starks hadn't established a bathing house at winterfell with all that hot water flowing.

Well if this pool was any indication, then the warm water of winterfell was not bathing water by any means. Oh it wouldnt instantly kill you if were submerged, but it would cook you alive if you were stupid enough to stay in it.

Which meant i was probably gonna build a greenhouse too. Mine would be bigger and more ambitious, but the original idea was sound.

A glass house to grow food in winter. Perfect for helping a fortress deal with food shortages.

At least with this i wouldn't need to invent some completely new technology. The north's glassmakers were really good at their job considering the era.

All i would do was to introduce the idea. Kinda like with the caltrops.

In hindsight i should have met with the glassmaking guild along with the rest, but i had decided that the glass garden stuff could wait. War was the more pressing concern i had decided.

More fool i.

I sighed. The benefit of hindsight and all that. I couldn't regret every small misstep i made in this. That way lay nervous breakdowns, something i really didn't need on top of everything else.

I squinted as i bent forward as far as i could without my feet actually touching the water. How deep was this pool? The pool in the godswood directly south of here was pretty deep if osha could believe. Did the volcanic depths here go to to a bottomless pit of steaming hot water?

I didn't really know enough about volcanic springs to know. At least i didn't need to fear this place blowing to pieces, in a volcanic explosion or something. Winterfell's hot springs had lasted millenia post this with no issues.

The other hot springs in winterfell was already in use to heat the rest of the castle, but this one has not been used for centuries. Not since before the boltons last took the castle last time.

Before that a big hall had been at this spot, the first attempt to replace the first keep. The boltons had done a good job ripping it down however, as no hint of it remained now.

"What are you looking at?"

I almost tripped into the boiling water. I barely kept myself from falling into the water when a hand grabbed my belt from behind and steadied me from falling forward.

I steadied myself upright and turned.

Behind me stood Sansa Stark, my little sister.

The 12 year old girl was dressed as one would expect a princess of the North to look. Fine furs and leather made from a Polar bears hide, with a well isolating hat on her head covering her mane of dark brown hair. On her chest was a silver wolf head brooch and on her hands well made white mittens.

In terms of looks she looked every bit of what i imagined a "standard" Stark woman to look. She had the long face of a stark, the dark brown hair and the grey eyes.

She hadn't yet jumped into puberty, but it wasn't hard to guess how she would look in a few years.

"Are you alright brother? It's not like you to be so absent minded."

Her voice was curious but her face showed none of that. Just a measuring look.

"Ah, yes i was… Lost in thoughts."

I decided to just pretend i had not almost fallen into the water rather comically.

Her eyes turned from me to the pool.

"Do you plan to rebuild the Kings keep Brother? It's been long since the tower of kings welcomed all to our hall."

I considered whether to just tell her my plans for the pool, but i decided there wasn't really any harm in doing so.

"I do plan to build here aye. But not the old keep. I have something…. New in mind."

Her look turned again from the pool back to me.

"A New Castle brother?"

I smiled.

"No, this one will be a bit more practical than a second fortress inside our walls. I've been thinking up a possible way to grow food. Even in winter. The building i'm gonna build here will be a first attempt to see if it works."

"A castle of glass?" Sansa asked.

I blinked. Then i turned to her.

"Aye…. Something like that."

I cleared my throat.

"The actual name is glass gardens. "

She nodded.

"Aye. A logical name. How would it work? I do not see how making something out of glass would allow the growing of crops."

My smile returned.

"It's a long explanation. The short of it is, that glass walls will allow sunlight to enter while also, if made right, prevent heat from leaving the room."

Sansa nodded slowly.

"And the hot water will prevent it from freezing. Aye, that makes sense. Do you plan to make these gardens of glass everywhere brother? Most places will not have such amounts of hot water, how will you prevent other gardens from freezing?"

"I have some other plans for that, but those can wait until i've tested the idea here."

Those other plans were bath houses, but i decided to keep that to myself. I did want to have some surprises. If i could keep suprises from this girl.

"Sansa…." I began slowly.

"Rickard told me you said to him i would die in the war."

The girl didn't bat an eyelash as she simply replied "Yes".

"Is there a reason you believe i will?"

My memories from brandons younger days give me a pretty good idea of where she got the idea of me dying, but i wanted to hear it from her to confirm it.

"I dreamt it."

Of course she did.

"What exactly did you dream of?" I asked.

She cooked her head.

"I Dreamt of a great gathering. A crowned Wolf, and many who joined his pack to go on a grand quest. Horses ran to his side in a great gallop, while the axemen with their great bronze hatchets, marched besides him.

The trees marched as well and behind them the bears. The mountains let forth theirs streams to aid the Wolf King.

The giants wished to aid him, but they drowned in blood, and no aid was forthcoming from them.

And so the wolf king and his pack ventured forth on their quest.

Many a day they marched, until finally they came upon their foe. A wall of frozen blood. Many a time the wolf king and his men threw themselves upon the wall. And though it cracked and buckled never did it break.

But for each time they threw themselves upon the wall fewer remained, for the wall was covered in spikes. And with each push more got stuck in the wall and died.

Finally the crowned wolf tried to push one last time and break it, but a spike went through his head, and upon his death, his friends abandoned the quest. Then, when none were left to stem the red wall. The blood melted and dragged all around down with it into the earth."

Sansa looked at me curious.

"That is what i dreamt brother"

Well that was… Refreshingly straightforward. I put on a confident grin.

"So what you're saying is that if i charge boltons shieldwall, i'll die. Well that should be of no consequence then. I have no plans of doing so. My plans for beating the boltons will not involve trying to break their walls with charges. Shield or otherwise"

Sansa simply lifted an eyebrow.

"How will you win then?"

"With Blood and Fire". I replied.

"In any case, shall we head inside? Dinner will be in an hour or so." I motioned across the courtyard to the south eastern halls.

"I think not. I shall go see the Gods. I'll meet you at the feast brother."

She began to walk south towards the forest of weirwoods that dominated the western courtyard.

I looked after her for a while before heading to warmer halls of this castle of mine. I still had so much to plan. War strategy, weapon making, beating the boltons, how to deal with the draconian anti warg laws my grandfather had made, making wargs and greenseers part of the north, beating winter and on and on.

There was so much to do.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks Maps of Winterfell, the North

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#50

A map of Winterfell at the start of the Story

winterfell

The Country Borders and the Great Castles of the North in the Year 2427 A.W

the north

If you Have any questions about either map feel free to ask and i shall answer

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks The Kingdoms of The North - Extract

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#51

Extract From "The Kingdoms Of The North" by Maester Garth of The Dreadfort.

The kingdom of sea dragon point, or the "Green Kingdom" as it's sorcerer inhabitants called it, was the last independent kingdom of the north to be subjugated by one of the two great powers of the region.

The "Green Kingdom" was infamous as a center of sorcerers and magic. A place where those who practice magic could walk freely and practice their dark arts as they saw fit. Wargs, greenseers, children of the forest. All walked freely within the kingdom without fear of prosecution. Nor were these gifts rare here. Even amongst the smallfolk wargs were not an unusual sight.

However this kingdom of infamy could not survive the ambitions of those who wished to rule all.

The kingdom of Winter under house Stark and the kingdom of the Dreadfort under house bolton had over the course of their histories fought all others pretenders who wished to lay claim to the title of supreme ruler of the north.

In this context the conquest of sea dragon point was simply the last natural end point of the ambitions of house stark, as the last kingdom of the west to not bend the knee to the Kings of Winter, the fact that they would be made to kneel sooner or later was inevitable.

The conquest of sea dragon point however, was not a war in the usual sense, where men are forced to kneel and give up wards as a guarantee of good behaviour. Instead it was a bloody war of extermination, as the forces of house Stark swept across every single town, castle and smaller holdfast of the kingdom. They then put it all to the sword. No one was spared, old men or babes in their mothers arms. Men or women, highborn or smallfolk.

Even the royal house of the king was not given the treatment as their station demanded.

The last of the warg kings was unceremoniously beheaded by King Rickard Stark. And all his sons were cleaved to bits and feed to the crows. The King and his brothers would also claim the warg kings daughters as prices of war. Keeping them as concubines alongside their own wives. Of these the only one who had any significance to the course of future history was princess Jez, the concubine of King Rickard himself..

As fate would have it, all of of King Rickards trueborn children would die before him, and his line would continue through a bastard born of Princess Jez. This Boy would grown up to become King Jon "The Law". But his stories and tales is beyond the scope of this chronicle, so let us return to his father King Rickard.

The king would later in life get the nickname "The Chainbreaker" when he outlawed thralldom in his kingdom. Before that however he was known as "The Childbane", for his actions at sea dragon point.

This rather grim nickname did not refer only to the children of men however. For the kingdom of Sea Dragon Point had long been staunch allies to The Children of the Forest who lived in the depth of the wolfswood. And when the Kings of winter marched against the Warg Kings they answered the call to arms.

Thus for the last time in the north the children and men clashed in armed combat. In many battles across the north and west, steel clashed with fang of beast and the fire of sorcery.

The might of Winterfell prevailed however, and in the end the children either fled the north or died on stark spears. Their enclaves in the Wolfswood annexed alongside Sea Dragon Point itself.

After his conquest Rickard would declare it law that all children amongst the smallfolk that were wargs were to be put out to die of exposure, hunger or the claws of beasts. Amongst the highlord's, wargs were to be sent to the wall and so would all adult wargs amongst the smallfolk within his kingdom.

It is said Rickard feared magic in all it's forms, and whether this be true or not, it cannot be doubted that he hated sorcery above all other things in the world.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks The Great Generation List

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#55

The Monarchs of the Great Generation - Year by their own Calendars

\- Westerosi Monarchs

Brandon Stark 38th of His Name, King of Winter, 18 Years Old, Old Gods - 2427 A.W (After Wall)

Arthur Arryn the First of His Name, King of Mountain and Vale, 13 Years Old, The Seven - 347 A.B.S.S (After Battle of The Seven Stars)

Tyrion Lannister Third of His Name, King of The Rock, 16 Years Old, Old Gods - 1970 A.L (After Lann)

Brynden Justman First of His Name, King of The Rivers and Hills, 12 Years Old, The Seven - 85 A.U (After Unification)

Durran Durrandon 25th of His Name, King of The Stormlands, 19 Years Old, The Seven - 2440 A.S.E (After Storms End)

Mern Gardner Third of His Name, King of The Reach, 17 Years Old, Old Gods - 2424 A.G.G (After Garth Greenhand)

Maria Yronwood The First of Her Name, The Bloodroyal - Queen of the Redmarch, 19 Years Old, Old Gods - 2207 A.B (After Bloodroyal)

Harrald Hoare The First of His Name, Iron King - King of the Iron Islands - 16 Years Old, The Seven - 2 B.R

Tor Thenn Magnar of Thenn, 24 Years Old, Old Gods - 5 B.N.T

\- Essosi Monarchs

Daemon Essaryon Archon of the Freehold of Valyria, 25 Years Old, Valyrian Gods - 2341 A.F (After Founding)

Mengo Han Fourth of the Jade-Green Emperors, God Emperor of Yi Ti, 32 Years Old, Faith of The God On Earth - 2470 A.D (After Dawn)

Morder Axi 16th of His Name, High King of Sarnor, 28 Years Old, Tall Men Pantheon - 2300 A.H.A (After Huzhor Amai)

Temujin Hai First of his Name, King of N'ghai, 30 Years Old, Demons - 2470 A.D (After Dawn)

Kida Khadin 15th of her Name, God Empress of Leng, 21 Years Old, Old Ones - 2470 A.D (After Dawn)

\- Sothoryos Monarchs

Mossador Naathi Lord of Naath, 24 Years Old, Butterfly God - 4780 A.P (After Peace)

*Edit. ive been struggling to figure out around which posts i would put this, and to be frank this is as good a spot as any. so, here's for anyone who wants to know what rulers will play the largest part on the stage of world history in this timeline.

Last edited: Apr 9, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks chapter 6

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#60

Ah, the lovely scent of spring. Or rather the lovely scent of spring rain. Which poured down so hard that a man could reach his hand out a window and pull it in after 5 seconds and it would be soaked.

People always talked of Winter as if it and it alone was the great enemy that the north had to deal with. Reality was that it was only one of 3 great factors which had prevented the north from becoming Russia.

Winter killed more people than anything else that was true. But it was the spring and it's floods which determined where farmland lay in the north. When the snows began to melt in the north, great temporary rivers and lakes would form as a result of the quite frankly ridiculous amounts of snow that had piled and piled as a result of winter. All of these rivers would then go the path of least resistance, going either to the actual lakes or the rivers flowing into the ocean.

The good news was that the northmen knew all of this well and had laid their farms so they wouldn't be dunked underwater in spring.

The bad news was that all of this meant you couldn't simply put a farm wherever you wanted.

Leading to the land itself being underdeveloped, despite it's potential, as the northmen chose to work away from where these rivers would form, rather than actually doing anything to deal with the rivers themselves.

The answer was obvious. Trenches and canals to direct water away so that you could exploit the farmland to it's maximum potential.

Yet another thing to deal with once the Boltons were dealt with.

Exacerbating the floods even more were the spring rains. Once snow began to melt, it would evaporate into what would eventually become rain. Which would melt more snow, leading to more rain. Which would then fall harder and melt even more snow. And so on and on it would go until the snow was gone.

Not that the people of the north understood the finer mechanics of the process, but they had lived this cycle enough to know it by heart.

Either way the spring rains would continue for about a month before they stopped, the spring rivers began to disappear, and then it was planting time.

If Tom's estimates were Correct, the Rains would stop in their current force in about 2 Weeks time.

It was in this rainy wet hour that the first levy force of the kingdom had come to winterfell.

As i was going over plans and sketches for the thousandth time, a guard came to inform me that a force of about 400 men was coming up the southroad.

I had of course known that the force would be coming. Ignoring that i had called for it myself, several of my lords had sent me messages about it and where it was and when.

I took one look at Winterfell's courtyard before deciding to forego any outside walk to meet them. The rain was still going strong, though the ground was not a giant swimming pool a as one might expect. Through the inner walls the water had flowed out into the moat through a rather immense number of smaller bronze pipes going through the wall. A pretty decent drainage system led water water to flow into them through simple gravity.

From the moat the water flowed out again on the south side of the outer walls through a similar set of pipes on a level a bit lower than this inner ones. Below the outer walls it formed a stream going south-west towards the actual river.

Deciding not drench myself in rain before meeting my men, i went through the walls to the Guest hall, seated myself on my seat at the high table and waited.

A Number of my regulars and lords had decided to attend, but the majority had not. Which was just as well, given how filthy the hall was about to become.

Finally the doors opened, and the force entered, led by an elderly man in black beneath a black banner with a white swan. Bizzarely it looked more like a Japanese styled Swan than a european one. Though the man beneath it looked as much a Crannogman as they came. At his sides were a young lordling in brown in his late teens, and a man in grey who seemed to be in his late twenties.

A weary and tired force they were, and quite unlike any other in the north.

Small and for the most part not particularly bulky, with all of them having short cut beards or none at all, they were about as far from the stereotypical image of a northman as you could get without looking outside the first men as a whole.

To a man they were short, the tallest being half a head shorter than me. Though some were a bit more big boned than the rest, none were fat at all. Not even the lords who lead the column had much in the way of being pudgy. These were the men of the neck, and they were not famous for their size to put it mildly.

They were however famous for their poisons and their great ability to murder people with guerilla Tactics.

The 3 leaders of the company walked up in front of the high seat followed by a number of other men who i assumed were their family members or retainers. They wore similarly colored garb in any case. They stopped in front of where I, Sansa and Rickard was seated, along with other nobles, the 4 big long tables of the hall where the majority of people would be seated was almost empty.

As they finally reached my table, the 3 men went to bent knee. As they knelt, their followers knelt as well, while the many men in the back bent their heads downwards as well.

The one in black began:

"To Winterfell we pledge the faith of Blackmyre."

"Cray" the one in grey followed.

"And Fenn" The Youngling in brown finished.

The man in black continued.

"Hearth and heart and harvest we yield up to you, our Magnar. Our swords and spears and arrows are yours to command. Grant mercy to our weak, help to our helpless, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you."

"We swear it by earth and water." The Grey man said.

"We swear it by bronze and iron." The Brown one Said.

And finally in unison they said "We swear it by ice and fire."

I smiled as i began to reply. I had rehearsed this a lot, so hopefully i'dd manage not to stumble at the moment of truth.

"And this i hear, Brandon Stark, Son of Jon "The law" Stark, King of Winter, Magnar of Winterfell."

"Nor shall i forget, nor fail to reward that which is me given. Faith with Solidarity. Hearth and heart and harvest with Protection. Valour with Honour."

"I shall grant compassion and aid to your wives and small ones. Aid and charity to your old and broken ones, and justice to all."

"This i, Brandon of House Stark, King in the North, swears before the gods and men."

The youngling blinked at the unfamiliar title at the end, but the older men remained stoic, as i continued.

"Now my lords, rise."

As they did so i continued in a bit louder voice so all would hear me "As my messenger has no doubt informed you, there will be a feast for all, to celebrate your arrival at Winterfell. But before we get to that, i have prepared my eastern towers for my soldiers of the neck to sleep in, as well as dry clothes to wear while they feast."

At that i could see that pretty much all the faces of the common crannogmen lit up in joy and grins. Except one guy who looked at me with sheer terror on his face. My eyes turned to him for a moment, to which the man's expression became even more scared. He looked as if he would piss himself.

Then i turned away from him to my lords. "As for you my Lords i have prepared you Rooms in the First keep."

I motioned to a couple of servants i had standing by the southern end of the hall and their doors into the walls.

"Just follow the men by the doors and they will lead all of you to your destinations."

"Thank you our Magnar" the three lords of the crannog replied, then they turned and called for a couple of men that carried several huge packs with them. Then they and their followers joined the flock of men streaming into the walls.

As the crannogmen went to their towers, an older short man, dressed in a soaked and dirty tunic that had once been snow white, but now was either brown or as grey as the direwolf on the chest.

"Harren!" I called out to the old man as he trotted up to the high seat.

"My Magnar. " The older man replied as be bowed.

"Don't worry, i shan't bother you for long. Just a short report then i'll let you go get some rest and a change of clothing."

If Harren was pleased about the prospect of getting some rest he didn't show it. He simply replied "As you say my Magnar."

"So how was the journey to the Greywater Keep?" i opened up.

"It fucking sucked, my magnar." He replied in his usual manner.

"The first trek of the journey went fine, if slow. Getting through the snows was hard and cold aye, but we avoided any blizzards, and when i waved the royal seal, lords and holdfasts were quick enough to have us over for the night."

He grimaced as he went on "The problem came when we reached the Fever. It freezes over usually, and i had been counting on it. But not this year though, no it was only halfway across. So we had to trek for 6 bloody, cold days before we found a crannog village down west. We had to make a new snow cave upon each night of the journey lest we freeze to death."

"But the ships the village had were frozen, and they couldn't ferry us across. So we had to Keep going west. And so it went each damned village we came to. All ships frozen. It wasn't until i came to house Boggs floating castle that i finally found someone who could ferry us across."

"After getting across i got some escorts from Lord Boggs to help us into the swamps. Then we began searching for Lord Reeds holdfast for two bloody months before we found it. Or rather before one of his scouts found us. The damned castle was all the way down south."

Harren Sighed. "After that it went well enough, the call went out that come spring the crannogmen were to gather at the mouth of Fever and march on to winterfell. And here we are."

A decent report. But there was one question i still had.

"I noticed Lord Reed is not leading the host. What's the reason for that?".

"He's sick. He ain't gonna last much longer most like. He's not old but… Well no one's entirely sure what's wrong with him. They don't have maesters at the crannog castles. In any case, he's really sick. So he sent one of the young Lord Blackmyre's uncles to lead in his stead as he has no brothers."

That was not good. Not good at all.

"Who's his Heir" i asked sharply. "Is there likely to be a succession crisis in the neck?"

"He's got a whole host of sons. But they're children all of them. No other close relatives, so likely there will be a usual regency when he dies. His wife being the most likely regent." I had decided i liked harren. He liked to chat, bring up history and he was blunt. Unlike certain guild leaders, he also knew not to act disrespectful in front of people.

"I see. Well i think i know all i need to know then. Go and take a rest soldier." I dismissed him with a nod and he began to walk out.

The rest of the court at the high table began to chat about this and that as we waited for the crannogmen to get back, so we could begin chatting with the lords.

Some were talking about the crannogmen and how they were so small. One made a comment wondering whether their manhood was as small as the men. That lewd comment got a laugh out of the Wull boy at lord Wulls side. I really should learn that boy's name so i could differentiate the two of them in my mind.

A Ryswell boy said something about hoping to buy dye from the lords. Dye? From the neck? What the hell kind of dye was there in the neck?

Purple dye as it had turned out.

About 20 minutes had passed before crannogmen had begun to pour into the hall, and began to sit down around the long tables. When the first had come, i had given orders to begin bringing in the food. Which the crannogmen had began to devour like…. Well i was gonna say wolves, but i supposea more fitting animal stand in would be Crocodiles….? Alligators? Caimans? Lizard Lions, they were devouring the food like starving lizard lions.

I decided i wanted to see a lizard lion one day. Just so i could find out which kind of animal it was.

In any case it took another 15 minutes before the lords appeared. All of them had changed into something resembling fine clothing. Nowhere near as fine as i or the other lords in the room mind you, just well made wool tunic. Firstly was house Fenn. Who instead of wearing something brown was instead wearing a deep violet colored tunic with 3 black lillies sewn in on the front.

My jaw had dropped at that sight. I had quickly picked it back up again and offered him a seat almost right by me, with only one seat between us. The seat i had prepared for lord Blackmyr. I had then began by asking all the pleasantries, who he was, age, his holdings, etc. All i could to learn where he stood and to butter him up before i began to ask about the purple dye.

The boy had not been hard to butter up to get him to spill either. Being 17, getting attention directly from the king had clearly boosted his ego a lot.

His name name was Howland Fenn. And through him i had learned far more than i had ever wanted to know about a small house south of moat Cailin.

As it turned out, house Fenn was the lord of Silvereed. His Castle being a small thing in the middle of the moors south of moat Cailin. Like Greywater Watch it was a floating castle, never staying in the same place.

Holy shit it was easy getting info out of this guy, you just asked and it would pour out of him.

I had barely asked him about the great purple dye and he had begun going into a long tale of the origins of his house.

The source of the dye was a lily plant creatively dubbed, Violet Lily.

It was a plant that only grew in the saltwater parts of the neck. It had been the origins of his house, when his ancestors had harvested it in great numbers and sold the dye to merchants from the east. Their hall had become known as Silvereed for all the silver that flowed there. They had become rich and helped the Marsh Kings build Moat Cailin.

They had then lost the trade and become impoverished when the sistermen united and the pirates had killed trade from the east into the north.

Even in the fucking Neck, you would find that one house who wouldn't stop stop telling everyone about how great they once were.

I had been about to tell him how once we had dealt with the Boltons i was planning on deal with said pirates.

Permanently.

But before i could do so, lord Blackmyre had sat down and introduced himself to me properly this time.

I listened to him talk, and i did answer him, but all i could think of was that i had just stumbled onto a gold mine. And all i had to do was expand it to it's fullest. I would turn the worthless saltwater Fever River into a production center for purple lily. All the coast of the neck would be made into production centers for planting this thing.

Before that though, as lord Fenn had reminded me. I needed to deal with the pirates of the east. And i would. The moment i got guns up and rolling, i would steamroll the sistermen, and the Arryns could fucking suck it. Good luck trying to take it with guns guarding it's shores.

God. To think that in canon they had fought for a thousand fucking years for those worthless islands.

Finally i was brought out of my thoughts when Blackmyre asked about my weapons of War.

"Your message noted that we were to bring large amounts of…. Our more unsavoury substances. You had a weapon to use them with?"

"Aye."

I looked around. On my left, lord Fenn had gotten into a chat with the Ryswell boy to lord Crays great annoyance as he had the misfortune of sitting between them. On my right Rickard was looking at the Crannogmen with fascination, and i could tell he itched to go talk to them. And i'dd allow it. Later. With Guards of course.

Beyond him Sansa sat with a boy of house Fenn judging by his tunic, maybe 15 years of age. His rather terrified expression made for quite a contrast to her calm questioning demeanor. Christ, was the royal family so bloody terrifying to the crannogmen?

"We'll chat about it after the feast. I have several new weapons to show you and my Lords of Fenn and Cray. Privatly"

"As you say my Magnar".

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks political map of essos

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#69

Essos Political map A rough Map of the Political situation of Essos at the point of the Story. Its not very good, and Valyria and the Shrinking sea pre shirking are both completely fucked up, but i couldnt find good clean maps for either. ill be drawing better maps of all these countries for hand later, but for now, this will have to do.

also, if you have any questions about anything related to this map feel free to ask.

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Apr 12, 2019

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#88

The woods were quiet as the company of men marched to battle.

Eddard hated this part of war. When you were with a great host you could sing as you marched. He'd been part of that many times in his life. The marching song. Friends and brothers marching side by side. Common levies and men at arms together in unison. It was a sound to warm the heart.

That was a far dream from here though. 600 men were moving through the woods, and making any great clamour now was the same as inviting the wolves to butcher them in the night.

He'd lost enough scouts to know that the wolves were here too. What he couldn't fathom was why they hadn't attacked in force yet.

They were less than 2 days marches from the bridge over the White knife. And according to the scouts that did make it back, the wolves had not fortified the bridge at all. Admittingly there could be a huge army on the other side of the river just waiting for him. But if he could take the eastern side of the river, that wouldn't matter.

He could hold it until more forces came from the dreadfort. And if the wolves did manage to force a crossing, then they would pay dearly for it.

Before that he had to actually get there though. He was sure the wolves would attack before that. They had to, unless this new Stark King was an imbecile who let men walk right on into his heartland.

An owl hooted somewhere above in the trees.

He really didn't like this, he hated losing scouts more than anything else in war. It meant someone had been able to kill them, and he didn't know where the killers were. And here…. So close to Wolf land. Stark forces could be lying in the wait on both sides Of the road.

He had the men on high alert, but you never knew in war. Things could go badly really quick. One minute you were sitting around the campfire drinking with the men. The next a column of andal knights charged down the hills. At least that wasn't something he had to worry about here. The wolves fought on foot, just like they did.

That meant that they would have no problems charging down the hills though. The terrain wasn't flat enough for a cavalry charge, but that of men? That wouldn't be any problems.

As the sun reached the point where it got in his eyes he once again cursed this entire damned war.

All of this shit started over a butchered Farmstead.

It had all started over a family of peasants dying, and their animals stolen over the border. That had somehow, lead to the Bloody Night at the Wolf's Den.

All this for a bunch of Cows. The World, and the gods who made it really were Mad. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a question from Roose Chill, his second command.

"How long before we meet the wolves you think?" The younger man asked.

"Sometime today or tomorrow. Maybe after we've made Camp."

That's how he would have done it. Truth be told he had expected a night attack Long before. But it had never come.

Roose snorted. "Not quite the honorable tactic, you'd expect from Stark."

Eddard snorted back.

"War ain't about honour. It's about killing your foes. And the Starks are very good about that, whatever other flaws they might have. "

Roose looked about to object, but he cut him off "And of what the" Laws of War" dictate, you can wipe it with your Ass. They went out with the Wolf's Den. There won't be any ransoms or the like in this war. Not from the stark side anyway."

The dreadfort though, would still be making and collecting ransoms thank you very much. So long as it did not include anyone the King wanted personally. You did not balk when the Red Kings sent for a prisoner.

The man to his left got an arrow in the neck.

Instincts took over as he screamed "SHIELD WALL". As the shields were raised and they began to bunch up more arrows began to fly. Dozens of them. He saw 3 more men hit before the shields lock together.

"WOLVES IN THE BACK" He heard the shout distantly, then repeated up the line. Great. He was so glad he'd drilled for a shieldwall for everyone.

He couldn't do anything but hope now. Hope the back part of the wall held, and the men didnt break or gods help him, charge. The arrow rain made it pretty clear he and his men in the front weren't going anywhere.

Since when did the starks have good archers anyway? The Stark Elite was heavily armed and outfitted infantry. So where the hell did these assholes come from? The hard and consistent rain made it clear these weren't peasants who just got a bow either.

A few arrows got through the shieldwall and hit men, but nothing too major. They were all Elites, armoured just like the starks own Elite. What worried him more was that he didn't hear any sound of fighting at the back. Just the endless rain of arrows.

What the hell did that mean? This was the part where you hit the back of the line, the weak point. Yet there was just more arrows. From all directions. No charge to break through. Then a man collapsed. As he fell he dragged his shield down with him and a gap in the wall opened before quickly being filled. Roose first thought an arrow had hit and killed him.

But no. The only arrow that had hit him had barely penetrated his armor. Certainly not enough to kill. He wasn't dead either. He just lay twitching on the ground.

Then a second man fell. And a third. Poison, he realised. The arrows were poisoned. Holes opened up, and was filled, but arrows punched through before the holes got covered. More scratches, more men who would fall soon.

The Starks had called the Fucking Bog Devils! For the first time in many years a true chill ran down his back. The stories he had heard of the devils of the Neck were something else. And unlike most such tales, he did not doubt their veracity. After all. No andal invasion had ever beaten through the neck. Not Even Seven mark and his 20000.

Then, something else bounced of his shield. Not as strong in force as the arrows, but bigger. A stone? He thought he could vaguely hear the crackling of fire at the other side. Had the damned Devils thrown a torch at the wall?

The World burst apart as Thunder came from the ground itself. The sound was like of a lightning bolt had struck the ground right in front of him. His proud ironwood shield broke in two like a woodblook chopped by an axe. Something hit him in the gut. Hard enough to knock him into the man behind him. Then he crumpled on the ground. He tried to hear, but for the first few seconds. He heard nothing but a ringing in his ears.

Then it all returned in a burst.

The scream of men cut down by poisoned arrows.

The rain of death that thudded all around him.

More thunder, but farther away now.

What the hell just happened? He tried to sit up, but his body was sluggish.

Oh.

There were arrows in him. 2 more punched into his body as he watched.

He collapsed fully on his back and his head rolled left.

Strange, he felt like he should know pain the likes he had never known. But he didnt feel… Anything.

He had no problems thinking though. Or to watch the gruesome sight unfolding before him.

The shield wall had broken all along the left side of the road. Men screamed and died as they were hit by arrows. Some which had survived the left side breaking. Others who suddenly got their back exposed to the enemies fire.

Some pockets of men tried to reform the wall. But… then he saw it. That which had broken his wall of wood. A couple of the Devils had sneaked down from the hills where their brethren stood and fired.

With them they carried torches in one hand. And they would pull out something small from packs around their waists. He couldn't quite make them out but whatever the were they had ropes attached to them.

The Bogmen would light the rope alight then throw it at the shield wall and then retreat behind the nearest tree.

Then thunder. Shields snapping like twigs. Men dying, the wall breaking.

Several groups would form to charge. Then they would sprint towards the hills. Then the first men charging would scream and fall to his knees clutching his feet.

That either stopped the charge or they ran over him, only for the next set of people in the front suffering the same fate as the trampled men.

All of this while the arrows still rained down.

He saw with pride that his men at least managed to kill some of the throwers as they charged.

He didn't manage to see what happened to those who charged up the hill itself. Still. He knew. There was no victory here. There was just a question of how many of the bastards they took down with them. One thing he did see was that the men who fled back the road was stopped, but by what he couldn't tell. So, no retreat then either. They would die here. All of them.

Something hit him in the head.

"A great Victory for our Kingdom." Proclaimed Lord Fenn with a shit eating grin on his face.

He wasn't inclined to disagree though. "618 dead for only 27 of ours. That's almost one tenth of Bolton's entire force." He'd had the dead counted several times over. The king wanted a detailed report, and Rickon Blackmyre was nothing if not thorough.

They had killed 618 men, the entire force.

Everyone equipped in a chainmail overcoat. 474 of those in still in good order.

534 Helmets without holes in them.

242 non broken swords, 152 axes, 90 with shafts undamaged.

And 160 spear with unbroken shafts. 40 spearheads with no shaft at all.

Also, not that we needed it but he had taken all that was left of their supplies. Their messenger ravens had, alas, not survived the battle.

He'd begun counting before the men who went around giving the gift of mercy to the flayed men were done.

The battle itself had not been the longest affair. It had lasted maybe half an hour.

One advantage with Heel Breakers he had discovered was how easy they had been to set. Unlike stakes, he had been able to set them during the battle itself. The moment the first arrow had flown, crannogmen had run behind the column of men and began throwing heelbreakers on the road behind them. Then they had continued doing so down the road. It had worked brilliantly. No Bolton men had escaped back the road across the poisoned steel tips.

There had been several attempts to force their way up the hills. But they had almost all been stopped by the hidden heelbreakers hidden by leaves and branches.

Behind those his throwers had stood as they threw their weapons of fire and death.

Rickon had been doubtful when the king described how effective these…. Shieldbreakers would be. He had assumed the king was exaggerating how how they would break shields and allow arrows to hit their marks.

He had been wrong. If anything the king had undersold how deadly they were. The explosion(at least that was what the king called it) had ripped the lines to pieces. Oh it had broken the shields alright. Then it had punched the broken shield pieces into their wielders, along with it's own metal pieces. The thunderclap would break the ears of the ones right by the explosion, would terrify the one unaffected by the burst itself. The real killer had been their arrows, but it had been the shieldbreakers which shattered the line of shields.

The only thing that had not gone to plan had been one group who had succeeded in escaping through the nest of heelbreakers by trampling over the ones it had brought down.

They had hit the line of archers and forced a close quarter fight. If they had been more things might have gone really badly. But it was late in the battle, and they had only been 24. They had killed 20 men, before going down though. The wast majority of casualties on their side.

The rest had been throwers who had either been killed by the boltons, or accidentally lit their weapons the wrong way. That was a constant danger with these new Dragon Powder Weapons.

In any case, after having killed these men, the proper thing would be to drain their blood and give to the gods. That was how they did it in the Kingdom of Winter. However given that most of these men had poison in their blood…..

Well he was not going to take the chance on giving the blood to the gods. So instead he had all of them burned.

As the pile of corpses were lit aflame and the smoke began to rise to the sky, the raven to winterfell was finally sent. He assumed the king would sent men to collect the booty. But until he got further orders he was to march on the only castle in the Dawnforest and take it.

Said "castle" was actually a fortified tower, that he could have easily taken by storm the moment their scout's Owl had discovered it. His order had been clear though. Only deal with that after he had dealt with the army. The king wanted a full report on how well his… Wallbreakers would be in practice.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Apr 12, 2019

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Threadmarks Book extract. Northern Oaths New

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Apr 15, 2019

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#107

Extract from "The Oaths of Westeros" by Sansa Strider, Writer and Historian under Maria "The Firecrown" Yronwood, High Queen of Dorne.

The Kingdoms of The North.

Kingdom of Winter.

Vassal Oaths

To you, we pledge our Iron and the faith of our house, Our King of Winter.

Through dreamy Spring, transient Summer, curtailed Fall and The Winds of Winter, we are your men.

Our swords, maces and axes are yours to call upon.

Any who you Name Enemy Shall be our Foes, and we shall give them no Shelter, no aid, and neither salt nor Bread.

In short Day's or in Long Night's, in rain or in in thaw, in sunny days or in snowy days, we shall go where you lead us.

Shield our helpless, shelter our young and grant justice to all, and we shall be your men now, and until the world comes to an end.

We swear it by Snow and Steam.

We swear it by Blood and Iron.

We swear it by Ice and Fire.

Titles hierarchy

-King of Winter

-Lord

-Lord/Chieftain

-Master

The Oaths of the Barrowlands.

To the First King and his heirs we pledge our Axes and Swords my King of the living and Buried.

In life we shall Follow you wherever you lead, and in Death we shall guard you and the house of Dustin with Bronze in hand.

Our Tin and copper we yield to you my king, to make Axes and Sword to guard our realm and to drive out the wolves from our homes.

Guard our homes with axe in hand, shelter our young at the great town, and do great justice with thine own hand and axe, and we shall be your men, now and forever.

We swear it by Tin and Copper.

We swear it by Blood and Bronze.

We swear it by Ice and Fire.

Titles hierarchy

-Barrow King

-Great Lord

-Lord

-Master

The Kingdom of the Dreadfort

To the Red King we swear our Blades and Blood.

Against any Foe, we shall follow the will of the Dreadfort, whether they be wolves, giants, lizard lions, Children, sea dragons, barrow dwellers, merfolk or men from beyond the sea.

Your foes are ours. Those you name enemy shall be struck down. We shall give then no shelter, no salt nor bread.

Guard our land with Blood and Blades, give us justice with your knives, and we shall be your men.

We swear it by Sulfur and Rock.

We swear it by Blood and Skin.

We swear it by Ice and Fire.

Titles hierarchy

-Red King

-Blood Lord

-Lord

-Master

Kingdom of the Neck

To Cailin we pledge the faith of our house.

Hearth and heart and harvest we yield up to you, my King.

Our swords and spears and arrows are yours to command.

Grant mercy to our weak, help to our helpless, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you.

We swear it by earth and water.

We swear it by bronze and iron.

We swear it by ice and fire

Titles hierarchy

-Marsh King

-Lord

-Lord

-Chieftain

Kingdom of Sea Dragon Point(The Green Kingdom).

To the King of Skinchangers, and those of the Green sight, we pledge our Faith.

Our spears, our claws, our fangs and our Sight is yours to Command My King.

In Your name we shall give Blood to the gods. In Your name we shall protect our blessed brethren.

In your name we shall kill our enemies.

Grant Protection to our dispossessed, help to the banished, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you.

We swear it by Fang and Fur.

We swear it by the third Eye.

We swear it by ice and fire.

Titles hierarchy

-Warg King

\- Greenseer

-Green Lord

-Seer

-Dreamer

*Footnote. this list of the oaths of the various Kingdoms of the north, does not include the Oaths of the Kingdoms of Last Hearth, Frozen Throne, Skagos or the Kingdom of Blackwood, as the first three of these was assimilated by the kingdom of Winter and Dreadfort so long ago that their original Oaths have no records made of them. As for the Northern Kingdom of Blackwood, which may or may not have existed, their oaths are Written in the chapter of the Riverlands.

**The Title Magnar is a smaller title also held by Royal houses in the north. Usually in correspondence to their high Seat. The Barrow Kings and the Kings of the Dreadfort were also known as the title Magnar of Barrowton and Dreadfort respectively.

It is also used when a subject talks to their king. Though some Andals translate it as the northern equivalent of "Your Grace", this is not correct. Instead it is the northern equivalent of the more southern First Men title "Magyar", and to refer to someone as a Magnar is similarly to acknowledge them as your overlord. Unlike the andal term "Your Grace", which it is the proper andal custom to refer to any monarch as such whether they are your liege or not.

One can only imagine how confusing this title convention were at skagos, in the long period between where house Magnar lost their sovereignty over the whole archipelago along with their crown after their subjugation by King Brandon Stark 9th of his name, and when they were granted the title of Highlord of Skagos by King Brandon Stark 38th of His Name, more popularly known as "The Architect".

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Apr 15, 2019

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Threadmarks The Last Call to Arms. Bear Island New

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Kingofwinter

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Apr 17, 2019

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#118

The Last Call to Arms.

-Bear Island-

The Early part of spring was over.

The Spring Rains had ended.

The last piece of the earth had been planted.

It was time to go.

It felt Strange to Lyanna. She'd been in battle many times in her life. You did not live on bear Island without seeing battle from the ironmen and wildlings. Man or woman alike. It made no matter when the raiders came. You either killed, were killed or you were carried off as a slave.

Yet despite all her experience at fighting, this was the first time she'd ever gone on to war.

The Winter Chill had hit the island, and many of the young men had died. Too many. Lady Woodfoot had promised the King 800 men, but there were too few young men left for war for that number. And Sansa Woodfoot was not a woman to Renege on her promises.

So the call had come out. Women who could be spared and had fighting experience were to muster at the tower along with the men. Her oldest boy were too young to either fight or take care of the Farm in her absence, but her oldest girl would take care of the farm.

The only thing that had remained was the last planting. The last farm around the village had been finished planted that day. Which now meant it was time.

So Lyanna had dug up her husbands old war equipment. It wasn't much, but it would do. A pretty good quality helmet their family had looted off an ironborn raider some 60 years back. A ironborn Axe, and the good old trusted ironwood shield. No wood were better for shields or…. Anything really. If one needed hard strong wood, ironwood was the best.

The ironborn had foolishly cut down all their own ironwood long ago, so when they came to the north, it was this wood they craved above all else. Well, that and slaves to carry off and rape. She snorted thinking about it. If a people would waste all their wood like that, then they didn't fucking deserve any. The woods of bear island was filled with ironwood, and so was the mainland. At least that's what her father had always said.

She'd never been to the rest of the kingdom, but her father had fought in the war against the wildlings of sea dragon point. And he'd brought home many tales from his journeys. He'd even seen Winterfell once!

When she was younger, she'd dreamed of seeing it too. The home of the king, the seat that the builder himself had made so long ago that no man could count the years. The greatest castle in the world.

It was a childish dream, and now that she was a woman grown, with her own children, she knew it for what it was. The dreams of a child. Yet now…

Jon, Her bear of a man had left them in the last month of winter, one of the many the winter chill had claimed. And instead of him marching to war, she'd have to go in his stead. It had been long since she dreamed of winterfell and seeing the rest of the kingdom. She would have given her left hand if she could just have Jon back, to kiss him and his bearded face, to feel his strong arms around her, to have his cock inside of her and feel his seed as they reached the great heights together.

But he was dead. And honor and her lady demanded she go in his stead. She'd get to see winterfell after all. And all it cost was her husband. The taste of that tainted the reality of obtaining one of her great childhood dreams.

The world was a cruel place full of bittersweet times.

Still, as she was hugging her children, she felt the grand parts of life in her bones.

"You take good care of the farm Eddara. Don't let anything happen to your sister and brothers you hear?"

"Yes mother." her oldest child was not the most friendly of girls, but she was a dutiful one. She also had never showed any interest in any boy she had ever meet. So she wasn't afraid the girl would run off with some lad while she was gone.

Her aunt had done that, run off with some skald while her father was at war, when she was supposed to watch the house. He had come home to a farm overrun with 2 squatters claiming that they were the rightful owners of the farm. He'd killed both of them, and to his dying day he had not talked of his sister without thunder in his voice.

Eddara would never do anything like that though. She was a dutiful girl.

"Do you have to go mother?" Her oldest Son asked in the quivering voice of a young boy trying to be brave, while his twin sister just cried into her leggings.

"Aye, i do. The King is calling everyone to war. We must do our duty, Jon."

Finally she separated her daughter from her leggings, then kissed her forehead. She subsequently did so with her other 2 children, then she said "Don't worry so much, i'll be home in half a year, you will do fine while i'm away. The food's plentiful, and the ironmen still don't dare come since the Lady built our fleet."

Lady Woodfoot had built a Fleet of 50 Longships some 7 years before. And the Attack from Ironborn and Barbarian Wildlings alike had decreased drasticly. She Prayed to the Gods it would be enough to keep her small ones safe while she was gone.

Then she steeled herself, and began to walk away to where her brother waited. As she walked away, she waved back to her kids. Little Arya was crying and had tried to run after her, but her sister held her back. Jon waved back though. Then she reached her brother, waved one last time, and turned and walked without looking back.

Her brother was as distant as ever as he began to walk besides her to the column of men and women that was gathering in the village. The Master of the area they lived in was waiting there she knew. When the 40 levy soldiers she was to gather had all come, they would march.

"Brandon didn't come to see you off?" her brother asked.

She grimaced.

"No, he's still too sullen about me leaving. He's hiding somewhere, waiting until i've left."

He nodded. Her brother was also dressed in war equipment. Bronze Scale that their father had been allowed to keep after the war. Iron was to go to the Elite, so they could fight better in their lords service, but bronze spoils of war were free for all.

Like her, he also carried a big ironwood shield, but unlike her axe, he carried a bronze war mace in his belt and a spear across his shoulder. They wore the same kind of helmet though. The ironborn helmets were so common on bear island that it might be the one thing all it's soldiers shared.

As they finally reached the square, she saw they weren't the last. She counted and only 34 had come yet she could see. Master Mormont was scowling as she talked to a man in a shadowcat cloak. Surrounded by her own elites, 13 all in all.

These were the Elite, and a more fitting name she could not have thought of. Clad in iron mail, heavy deep green cloaks, massive two handed axes across their shoulders and iron war maces in their belts. Across their backs were slung great ironwood shields tipped with iron, on them were painted the great black bear of house mormont.

The contrast been these men and her fellow levies were as large as that between embers and fire. The only thing they had in common with the rest were the same style of helmets, though theirs carried an engraving of a bear on the side.

They waited a while longer before the 6 last people showed up. Then without ceremony and with a couple of horses carrying food and supplies, they set out.

As they marched across hills, and through forests, beyond everything she had ever seen and known, Lyanna felt a change.

It was hard to describe. But somehow, she knew that something had irrevocably changed. That if she ever came back this road, she would be a very different person. She wondered if that person would be thinking so much about her children as she was now? Or would she not care. She did not know.

Ahead, only the unknown lay.

Last edited: Apr 18, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Apr 17, 2019

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Threadmarks The Last Call to Arms. Cape Kraken New

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Kingofwinter

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Apr 20, 2019

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#130

The Last Call To Arms

\- Cape Kraken -

Turin was annoyed.

The damned caller had finally come to announce that the final farms in the area was planted. That meant it was time to go.

Gods curse it all. He had just gotten to the point where he and his fellow cattle watchers could relax as the animals grazed. While the others toiled in the fields, he and his 13 other cattle watchers could simply relax and watch the cattle eat on the fields.

Of course there was a very real danger to it, and there was a real reason the young ones pissed themselves when they got assigned this duty. But Turin had learned long ago that while direwolf packs were a real threat, direwolf attacks on a group of armed men almost never happened.

The real danger was when you were alone. He'd had more than one poor bastard wandering away from the group in the night to piss or shit, and then heard the scream of a dying man and howling of wolves.

Direwolves weren't like other beasts. The monsters could think. They were far smarter than any other animals Turin had ever seen. A bear or a wolf might attack men if they were hungry enough, or you stumbled unto them in the wild. The grand tales of giant bears attacking villages to hunt and kill men were just that. Tales. Turin had never seen it happen.

Direwolves though… They didn't fear men. But they didn't attack men in villages or farmsteads either. They were too bloody clever for that. Instead they would hit you out when you were on the road without a sizeable party, or when you were out grazing the cattle. There was a reason why those that grazed got to carry the best armor and arms the villages had.

In his case, he wore an old bronze scale armor, a bronze helmet, a spear over his shoulder and a hatched in his belt.

It was pretty impressive for smallfolk, but truth be told it was lord Krakens discarded armor. Back in the olden days, when the Ironmen ruled this land, iron had been the only material for war.

But then House Kraken had risen up and thrown that Rapine race of bastards back into the sea, and bent the knee to the Kings of Winter in exchange for protection. And with that protection had come what the nortmen used for war in those days. Bronze.

However, eventually the northmen had also mastered the art of ironmaking, just like the ironborn. And like that, the age of bronze had ended, and the iron age began.

Unlike iron though, bronze didn't rust. And thus, the change to iron arms meant that countless pieces of bronze were lying around unused.

He did not know how other lords around the land had dealt with that, but on Kraken, their lord had decided to give it to his smallfolk so they could defend themselves. Especially against ironborn.

Truth be told they almost never did. There were only 3 coastal settlements on cape kraken. And all 3 were around the seats of lords.

Turin had been to all three of those in his life to sell cattle or grain. The rest(and wast majority) of the population of cape Kraken was further inland, up in the hills. Far away from any rivers.

The Krakenmen's defence against the ironmen were their location far inland far from the sea and river. They couldn't raid that which they couldn't reach now could they?

All of this meant that it was the grazers who got to enjoy the old bronze armor.

Not that it mattered now. Now was time for war.

14 new young boy's had come to relieve them of their watch as all 14 of them had been called to fight in the kings bloody war for vengeance against the Red Kings. Along with them came a new pack of watchhounds.

It was a humiliating experience to dress out of their armor and hand it to a bunch of boy's, none of them grown to manhood. The oldest was ten and five. The youngest three years below that.

He and several of the others scowled at this pathetic lot of replacements, but all of them did dress out of their armor. The grazers got the best armor. That was simply how it was done.

There were some farewells between Fathers, brothers and grandsires and grandchildren. But thankfully they didn't stick around to watch the children get dressed in THEIR armor. Instead they marched back to the village and the farms. At least they got to keep their spears as the boy's had brought their own. They wouldn't be completely helpless if direwolves attacked.

"How many do you suppose will die while we're gone?" Asked Vayon, one of the younger men.

It was a good question. If Turin had been inclined to participate it the conversation he'd guess 3 or 4. But he didnt like to to chat with anyone, so he didn't say anything.

"Boy's or Cattle?" One of the others asked.

"Both" Vayon replied.

"Well it Depends on Eddard's Son i suppose." Howland answered. He looked over at Eddard before continuing. "His boy was left in charge, and with grazing, it's always the leader that everything depends on."

"Aye" Said one of the others. "If he breaks, the rest breaks too. And if they breaks they all die. Cattle and boy's alike. Thats happened many times before."

"He won't break!" Eddard replied with the confidence only a proud father could have. "There will be some cow deaths though, i have no doubt. I dont think ive ever had a run without a new leader losing at least one or two."

He sighed. "They don't really learn before that first loss."

For the rest of the trip Turin ignored the chat amongst the men. Instead he focused on the journey ahead. They would have a long journey ahead of them. And it would be hard. Long day marches, carrying spears and shields.

He also didn't have much hope for any armor to replace the bronze he'd given away to the stripling. Maybe he'd manage to loot such from a Flayed man, but he doubted it.

Finally after a 4 hours journey they finally reached the farm. Most of the men went to their homes. Take one last farewell with kin or the like. He had no such. He had neither kin nor a farm to call his own.

Instead he went along with Eddard and 8 others, to his farm where he was a farmhand. While the farm owner said farewell with his family he simply went to where they'd prepared the shields and Eddard's armor.

There was a really impressive bronze breastplate and helmet there, which one of eddard's sires had taken from a dead lord or something such. He ignored it and the fine battle axe, and instead took one of 10 shields prepared for him and the rest. A good ironwood shield and a bronze tipped spear. More he did not get.

Some of the farmhands said farewell to their own families, while others simply joined him as they walked to the road and waited.

There was some more chatting he ignored, while he waited for his employer. It took a while, but finally Eddard got done saying goodbye, dressed in his armor and joined them on the road. They began to walk to the village square.

Master Brandon Sharp did not seem in a hurry to get going, given his nonchalant expression as they walked up to him and the rest of the 50 men he was gathering for this campaign.

He smiled as he saw Eddard though. "Ah, Ned, i see you made it from the hills. Any Wolf attacks?"

Eddard smiled as he replied and walked up to him. Then they chatted for what felt like ages before one of the Masters Elites, coughed and reminded his master that they needed to reach Castle Kraken in 3 days time.

Brandon scowled at that, but sighed and made orders that they would move out. Then he invited Eddard to chat with him as they moved, and he marched up besides him and they continued their chat.

Turin wondered if Lords were as close to their smallfolk as master Sharp was. Or if it was just him. He had known Eddard since before Turin was born, and if the Farm owner's tales could be believed, he had been friends with him since before he became master in his own right.

Maybe it was true or maybe not. He didn't know. Nor care frankly.

What he cared about right now was the armor of the elites. He looked at it with bitter envy, missing his bronze scales. He felt naked without it. Knowing that all it would take was one arrow and he'd be a corpse. He felt like that without his helmet he would get struck in his skull at any moment.

He was no craven. But he couldn't help but feel like at any moment he could die without armor on.

As they crossed a stream and night began to fall, He felt… A Change. He wasn't sure what it was, but something had definitely changed. What was behind was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was what lied ahead.

He still wished he had some bloody armor though.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Apr 20, 2019

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Threadmarks The Last Call to Arms. Village of Hook New

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Kingofwinter

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Apr 21, 2019

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#139

The Last Call To Arms

\- The Village of Hook, the Bay of Ice, Beneath the Northern Mountains -

The call to war had come that morning, the caller having ridden to the Mountains Along with The Wull on his journey home. It was a sad affair what happened to his father. The Wull had not been his chief, but Beren had liked the man well enough. He and Beren's chief, Jorah Hook had been good friends, and he had seen The Wull at the last High gathering, the time in summer when all the mountain clans came together to celebrate, hang their axes on the walls and feast with friends.

It was a time when grudges were put aside, marriages and fellowship were made and good mead was for all. He remembered how the two chieftains had wrestled for almost one quarter of an hour, then finally The Wull had brought him to the ground and been declared victor of the bout. Then he had helped The Hook on his feast and they had sat down and laughed about it at the feasting table.

He had been quite the giant The Wull was. Even bigger than The Hook, and he was the biggest man alive that Beren Knew. Now however he was dead. A group of wildlings had killed him, when they had invaded the north to raid and rape and plunder. He had intercepted and wiped the bastards out, but he had taken a spear through the neck at the end of the fight.

An end worthy a good man he supposed. Beren had always thought it better to die in battle than in the bed, or worse still, out hunting….

Anyhow it didn't matter now. Now was time for war, as their overlord in the great castle of winterfell had called them, to avenge his kin, slain in the Wolf's den.

Beren had been to winterfell when he was younger during the winter before the previous one. And a grander thing he had never seen. He had never imagined that so many people could all live in one place. It was even more people there than during the High Gathering. And the castle itself. With walls as tall as a the mountain cliff east of his village. And an even bigger set of walls inside of those! It truly was a home worthy of the greatest Kings in the world.

The house of Stark.

Made by The first Stark, the man who had made the wall, Winterfell had been the Kings seat ever since, for over two thousands years.

The Wolfs Den however, had been made long after that, by another stark. One Beren did not know the name of. The castle however was all that winterfell was not. It was widely known that the castle was cursed! How else to explain all the times the castles owner had had his seat be taken, sacked and all his line wiped out?

Many houses had held the Den over the years, and all of them had come to a bad end. Hell, even the Hooks had held it 300 years ago as The Hook would remind all who talked with him when he was in his cups.

The castle had been granted to a third son of the Hook at that time, a reward for saving the kings life. The family would hold it for only 3 generations before being wiped out by the Boltons.

He supposed that was Why the Hook, had taken the kings call to arms to avenge his kin so eagerly. Mayhaps he saw the destroyed starks of the wolfs den as his compatriots in the manner. Yet another line of failed lords of the Castle slayed by Bolton Hands.

Not that it mattered to Beren. He had pledged himself to the war all the way back when the call to arms came during the fall. The war had been halted when fall came to an immediate sudden end only half a year into it, and the cold winter had set in.

It was quite shocking. A fall that only lasted half a year? None of the old men in the village had ever seen such a short fall, but whatever the case, the result had been the a halt to the hostility between the king and the boltons.

Now however, winter was over and the time to avenge the Fallen had come.

Beren had been out fishing when the call finally came to the Village of Hook, and he hadn't heard of it before he finally came home near the end of the day. The following day they would march.

So there weren't much more to do before. Just prepare the equipment for war.

Like most of the village, their family's war equipment were spoils of war from the last great war the king had called them to. The war against the beastlings on sea dragon point.

His father carried the only real piece of armor they had other than helmets. A coat of bronze scales, which his own father had come home from the war in.

As for the rest, they got helmets, a weapon each and a shield if they could use it.

All their helmets were things the village had looted from ironborn over the centuries.

The weapons of the house were several bronze war axes, a war mace and two giant two handed bronze swords.

How his grandfather had managed to carry all of those back home by hand, Beren did not know.

So, as he was about to say goodbye to his mother and sisters, he was one of the two carrying the two swords the family owned. The other being his father. As his mother was hugging his father and kissing his younger brothers, he was staying in the background letting his own older brother and his father do the talking.

"You watch over them you hear? You're the oldest Benjen, it's your duty to watch over your brothers." Beren rolled his eyes. Yes, Benjen was the oldest, but it was seriously difficult to think of his brother protecting him when he was over a head and a half shorter than him.

"Don't worry mother, i shall. We'll all be coming home fine, just you see." He smiled at that. It'd been years since he needed his brothers protection, but he was looking forward to fighting with his brother.

It would be like the songs, a man and his brothers against the world. Though to be fair he could do on this trip without a couple of his brothers….

His mother moved on to the youngest boy's for this journey, his twin brothers. "You two stay safe you hear? Listen to everything your father and Benjen tells you." The twins rolled their eyes as they just said "Yes mother" in unison.

It wasn't that he didn't love the two, it's just…. He did not want to deal with either of them, their sour demeanor or their Pranks during this trip. The two of them were never happy, unless they were up to some mischief.

Not to mention, they were both so fucking young. If this war had gone as planned, then both would have been too young to go to war. But the last winter had lasted two years and they were now past their fourteenth nameday. Not quite men yet, but old enough to go to war.

Hook certainly hadn't denied them when they asked him and once he had given his agreement his mother had nothing she could do. It was his right as chieftain to choose men for war.

His mother moved on to the middle son. "You take care of yourself Brandon, don't stray away from your family." The mute pox scarred boy just nodded as she pulled away from the hug.

Finally she came to him. "You take care of yourself Beren. And watch over your brothers if you can too." He smiled at that.

"Of course, when have i not done so?" At that she actually Smiled, both their memories going back to last summer when a traveling skald had mocked Brandon for his voicelessness. He had broken the man's nose for that.

After that there were some farewells between his sisters and the rest of the party. Personally he bent down and talked to Lyanna. He'd promised her back before Winter that he'd bring back a bracelet, or necklace of fine metal for her, like his grandfather had done for mother back in the day. All he had to do was loot a dead lord or some such after killing him. How hard could that be?

"You'll be fine, right Brother?" she looked worried. Ah well, she was a little girl, there was nothing wrong with girls being scared. That's why the gods had made men after all. To protect them.

He put his hand on her head and ruffled her hair. "Don't worry sister, we'll be fine. And don't worry about the promise either, i haven't forgotten about it. I'll get you something nice to bring back"

She beamed at that. "How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know. There probably will only be a couple of big battles, but it'll be a lot of marching before that. Father thinks we'll be gone half a year or so."

At that she grew a bit sullen, then suddenly she jumped forward and hugged him. He embraced her and held her tight before letting go. Then he stood up and saw that the rest of the family had finished their own goodbyes.

It was time to go.

They set out waving and shouting goodbye's to the girls and Beren, his oldest sister's husband who had stayed behind to help with fishing. He had been exempt from having to fight, having lost one of his thumbs some years back.

Beren generally liked his goodbrother. Other than the confusion that arose of two Berens in one households, he had never had any great quarrel with him. At least he was still good for work too. He couldn't fight, but he didn't have much problem helping out with the boats. It could have been worse. He could have been a true cripple.

After a short walk they reached the column of men around the Chiefs Hall.

Truth be told it was just a big fisher's hut, nothing like a true hold, like the clans longer up in the mountains had. One did not need to compare it to Winterfell to see it's lackings.

Anyhow, the rest were ready. The chief and his 20 champions at the head, waiting for the last stragglers. They were almost the last actually, only two more groups came. After Them, and not long after. After the Hook was assured that they were the last, and the 250 he was gathering were all here, they began to march.

Around two dozen horses carried their supplies. Fish and meat for the trip and tents for the nights.

As his brothers and father began to chat, he looked at the rest of the army. Equipment Wise, their family was amongst the best. Most families had only one true piece of armor like his own, but at least all of his had real weapons. Some carried bronze weapons, but most of the rest carried obsidian spears and knives. The rest carried heavy wooden staffs, while a few were slingers.

The only thing all men had in common was the tried and true iron helmet from raiders killed over the years. Those who carried shields all carried ironwood shields too. The sea devils might have great iron arms and armor, but their shields were truly shit.

As for the Hooks champions, they were a bit quality up from the rest, but not by that much. All had armor, but instead of iron mail most wore bronze scale. An iron helmet was donned on all of their heads as one could guess from champions of a village by the sea. Each had a two handed iron sword slung over their backs with a shield over that. In their belts they wore war maces and battle axes. Each carried the Standard of the Hook. A Light Blue background with a silver hook on it.

All impressive, but there were men in the village who was nearly as well armed. One family leader was dressed almost as exactly like some of them, only lacking an iron sword.

The only one who looked completely above the rest were The Hook himself and his Heir, his son Domeric.

Both were dressed in thick Iron Mail, heavy lightly colored blue cloaks with the hook of their house sigil on the back, a couple of steel helmets with iron mail under going to their shoulders, two thick heavy shields and steel war maces in their belts.

It was the difference between smallfolk and highborn.

They marched for many hours, the entire day, along the coast and over hills and rivers.

He felt weird. He'd seen this terrain and road many times in his life, but only from sea. He'd never actually been on this road so far south from his home on land. He'd been in the mountain for the High Gathering, but never along this road before. He didn't know why this road should make him feel this queer, but it did.

Finally they meet up with the forces of clan Wull, some 500 men all in all. They marched very close to each other, the Hooks behind the Wulls. The Hook himself had gone ahead to talk with the young Wull. Leaving his son in command for the. Moment.

As they marched the feeling did not go away. It continued as they marched behind the will contingent.

Finally the sun went down and they set up camp.

It wasn't before he got assigned the bloody watch duty by straw, and was watching the darkness and stars that he finally realised what the feeling was.

Something had changed. He wasn't sure what it was, but something had changed. An era of his life had come to an end. Something new had taken over.

Ahead lay only war.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Apr 21, 2019

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Threadmarks Last Call to Arms - The Neck New

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Apr 25, 2019

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#141

-Dawn Tower-

Lucifer sat outside watching the moon and stars. It was a cool spring night, and for once he wasn't required to spend the entire bloody night on watch.

He'd had to do that for months now, be on watch in the night, sleep at day. When they were hunting in daytime he had had to join them too, no matter how tired he was.

They had needed food for the entire army, and he'd had to join the hunters to maximise their catches. They needed quick overview of the landscape. They needed him to watch at night for bolton scouts.

As if they needed him for that. Even the most slow and dimwitted man in their army was a hundred fold better than any scout the Flayed Men had. He'd seen a lot of scouts over the weeks. And to a man they were complete shit. They didnt know how to change their scents nor mask the sound of their movement using the sound of wind. At least they knew how to camouflage their bodies, but any simpleton could do that.

The army didn't need him for dealing with them. But he was the only Skinchanger in the army, so no, he had to join them at everything.

When the call to arms had come from winterfell, there had been debate on how the skinchangers would participate. Most had meant that they should not go at all. The lords didn't need more men to reach the 400 number they wanted.

His mother had been rather adamant that none of them should leave the protecting swamps. The edicts of the Childbane had never been enforced in the neck, where the lords had been more than happy to turn a blind eye to those gifted with the gifts of Skinchanging.

It would be best if none of the blessed left the swamps.

Lord Blackmyre had different ideas. He had said plainly he would not march without at least one skinchanger. So they decided on it with the most impartial and fair way known to man.

They had drawn lots.

And of course as could be expected, he had drawn the purple one. The others take the damned lots.

So it was decided, he would go with the host to winterfell. A great honor lord marsh had said. A great service to the kingdom.

Piss on that.

He had known perfectly well that if the king realised what he was and demanded his head or send him to the ice wall, the lords would deny any knowledge of his gift and hand him over to the king. After all, skinchangers were outlawed by the crown, and they were lawfull lords.

He'd resigned himself to that possible fate. Then they had actually arrived to winterfell.

It had been a long and gruelling journey through mud and chilly spring rain. Their clothing had kept the rain out on the march, but when they had made camp to rest… Not a man in the host had avoided being soaked to the bone.

Then after the long and grueling journey they had finally reached the hall of kings. And the Den of Wolves….

Lucifer had expected to be tense during the kings feast. But truly he had not been that frightened. After all the king wouldn't know what he was just by looking at him.

He was wrong.

He had felt it the moment they had entered through the first enormous castle wall. On the drawbridge it had struck him. The biting, cold, horrible realisation that something was…. Wrong. Just Wrong.

None of his fellows had felt it and just marched on with no shudder and care for anything but wind and rain.

But he had felt it. He knew. An overwhelming sense a dread and doom waiting for them ahead. As they walked through the second even more gargantuan wall, he felt the chill through his spine even more biting.

He felt where the feeling was coming from too now. A large hall like building to the right of the entrance through the wall. He could not make out the features of the building through the rain, just a large black mass. But he knew it was there. He knew that whatever made his bones clatter like thrown bones, was in that building.

They had stopped for a moment while lord Blackmyre had spoken with one of The King's men.

While they had talked he had prayed. No, begged anyone and everything that they must not go to the hall. Anywhere but the hall. He had prayed the gods, the seven that were one, the others, his parents, every deity he had ever heard off.

All he had prayed for was that they must not enter that hall.

Once lord Blackmyre had finished his talk, he motioned for them to follow as he began to stride towards the hall.

Lucifer had stood still as a statue for a moment, paralyzed in fear, while the rest of the men began moving. Then the man behind cursed and shoved him forward to get him moving. His body shook and he began to walk on instinct. Towards his doom.

They had entered the hall. And the shadows were wrong. They went up and down the hall in patterns he had not even considered before. Some went against the flames that cast them. Some went the right way for a bit, then went sharply sideways.

The rest of the group walked in as if nothing were amiss. He quickly glanced at his compatriots. None seemed afraid. None of them felt the terror. The overwhelming feeling that they had to escape from this hall. To escape this castle, and run away across the plains.

His lords went forward to where a man sat. Lucifer had avoided looking at the man. It was as if his instincts had screamed at him to look away from where he sat, and he had to force his own head and eyes to turn, against their own will at the man sitting on a throne at the raised table at the end of the hall.

The moment he laid his eyes upon him, he knew. It was from this man that everything wrong with this place came from.

The man… No, the King… Sat at a throne of carven ironwood painted snow white. It was in response to him the shadows bent, he could see that now. The shadows bent, not in some incomprehensible pattern.

They bent away from him.

He was the center of all. But it wasn't just the shadows of others around him. Behind the king… A… A… Shadow lay on the wall. Great it was, a great wolf of darkness and shadows. Two eyes burned in it's head. Two lights of shining grey, cold as ice.

Upon it's head, a crown of spiked and sharp swords lay. He knew not how he knew, but lucifer knew that that all of them could kill a man as sure as any steel sword.

His lords went forward unafraid or unaware of the great danger that was to approach this king.

They spoke the oaths, the old words that had once been spoken at moat Cailin, before the Marsh King. He knew the words, as all crannogmen did. But he could not hear them, instead all his attention and focus was upon the king himself.

The Wolf was pleased, accepting the homage the lords gave it with a grin of sharp deadly teeth.

Then as they finished, the king spoke. Two voices boomed forth. Lucifer would have thought they both came from the king's lips, but no, he was watching the wolf as the voices spoke. One of the voices came from the man, while the other came from the shadow on the wall. Both said the same words, with the same length, but the voices were far different from each other. The voice from the wolf was that of an older man, while the kings voice was as one expect. A young man a few years above manhood.

His eyes went to the king's face. It was that of a normal man, nothing outstanding about him. But… There was something there. On the kings forehead. Something of immeasurable power, something hidden, not yet awakened. A sword above the necks of all living.

He could only pray that whatever it was, it would never awaken.

The king finished speaking and turned his eyes from the lords to the men behind them.

They turned on Lucifer. He froze. The eyes were on him. Man and Wolf both. And he knew. The king knew all about him. The eyes cut straight into him, and ripped out all his secrets from his heart.

The king's gaze turned from him, and he could breathe again. When the king said they could leave he bolted out of the hall. When he had to return, he expected the kings judgement to come. That this would be his last night on earth.

It had never come. The king had not returned his gaze on him. And The rest of the time in winterfell the king had not seeked him out.

It had been the worst experience of his life. A week and a half resting in a castle where every shadow felt as if it was waiting to kill him.

And he could not escape the king. Even when he did not seek him out, the king's very presence was a constant he could not escape. He could feel where he was, at all times.

When the rains finally abated to let them march he had never felt more relief in his life. He sincerely hoped he would never have to come to this terrible castle ever again.

After that the scouting had begun. It had been easy enough to find and break an owl in the dawn forest. And after that he had not gotten a single good rest. At least he had been excused any of the battles. Lord Blackmyre had not asked him on either. He was just to make sure no one escaped his sight running away from the battlefield.

His services hadn't been required. The battle of the road had gone incredibly one sided. None had escaped.

None had escaped the Battle of Dawn tower either, though it was in many ways a much worse affair.

The Kings Wallbreakers had proven themselves worthy of their name. Only two had been needed to turn the north wall into a mess of rubble in a…. "Explosion" of fire and sound.

The two crack's and blast's of destroying fire truly was a sight and sound to behold. That the king had designed these terrors of war did not surprise Lucifer.

The defenders had been taken completely by surprise, but none of them had remained asleep. All had come to fight, even unarmored.

The battle itself was short. The king's orders were clear. No prisoners of war were to be taken on the field. But those captured in castles were to be taken as hostages.

Then Lord Blackmyre had taken a sword cut across his eye, almost deep enough to kill him. Everything had gone wrong from that moment.

His personal men(those from the western swamps), who were the ones leading the charge on the tower itself had been wroth, and when they at first assumed him to have been killed, they decided in their rage to avenge him.

By killing everything in that tower.

Then, to add further insult they had accidentally set it on fire, and the structure came tumbling down.

Which not only destroyed any loot they might have taken from it, but also destroyed the building they were supposed to sleep in for the foreseeable future.

Needless to say, after being denied a real roof over their heads, most of the army were quite pissed.

It had almost escalated into a real brawl as men were heatedly shouting at each other, still with weapons in hand.

That had thankfully been prevented by lord Fenn, who had stepped in and taken control of the army. He had ordered the men to separate and to set up their tents in different parts of the courtyard.

The Blackmyre men had been placed in the north western corner, as far from everyone else as they could be.

After that, a raven with information had been sent to winterfell.

It had taken two weeks before the king's response had come with further orders and to pick up the loot from their battles.

Lucifer had not been privy to the conversation exchanged between The Kings Elite, the man named Harren, and lord Blackmyre(who thankfully had survived and was recovering).

But it was common knowledge to the men of winterfell who had talked with the crannogmen, that the King was Wroth for the massacre of house Dawn. Very wroth.

So wroth, that instead of launching raid into the heartland of the dreadfort, and plunder as they pleased, which everyone had been looking forward to, they had instead been order to simply stay here and kill any Bolton force that came through the Dawnforest. The king didn't trust them not to butcher every castle they took.

Needless to say, the simmering anger at the Blackmyre men had doubled at that. After enduring countless marches through the spring rain, all men in the army had been looking forward to some plunder.

Thankfully, for once he was not involved in that mess at all, as he was a marsh man, from the northern swamps, and not amongst the 60 or so men that had awakened everyone's anger.

After that, he had settled into the routine he had come to loathe so much. But now that routine was at it's end. The king was finally on his way here. The entire army had been gathered and it was time to start this war in earnest.

He had spotted the kings host on it's way last night. Now there were only one day left before they reached the tower.

For him, that had meant that it was time to go home was approaching. The sooner this war was over with and he got to go home again the better.

If Lucifer never had to see the north, it's wast empty plains and goddamned oak and iron forests ever again, he would live a happier life.

Above all else, he hoped that once this campaign was over, he would never have to meet his terrifying monarch again as long as he lived.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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May 9, 2019

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#181

The last contingent of my host marched into the castle of Winterfell, the men of cape Kraken had finally gotten their asses to winterfell, half a week after the next to last to arrive.

I was standing on the battlements of the outer walls when the came up up the south road.

House Kraken had a pretty awesome banner truth be told, a chuthlu like red Kraken on black. As one could expect of a house established by a saltson of the greyjoys.

The men of Cape Kraken were of a different breed than other northmen, that was easy to see. Whereas the northmen on average tended to have brown hair of various shades, with the occasionally pure black, or the rare flaming red, the men of Kraken were almost all blackhaired. A few had brown hair, and i counted maybe 4 out of the several hundred who had red.

I also assumed i'd see a different kind of facial structure once i got a closer look when they got into the castle proper.

That being said, they didn't dress any different than other northmen. Their armor was the same bronze scales with the occasional bronze plate thrown in here and there. The elites and lords wore iron mail of course, but that was par for the course. Other than armor, they wore the same leather, wool and fur as everyone else.

They preferred the standard impractical long haired look which was all the rage in northern fashion.

The only thing that brought with them, that told of their ironborn origins, were their banners.

The wast majority of the houses of cape kraken were descended from the saltsons who had led the region in rebellion against their ironborn fathers some centuries back.

Some had founded new houses entirely, like house Kraken. Others had just taken their fathers symbols and name for their own. There were Hoares, Harlaws, Drumms and Blacktydes, as well as a bunch of smaller houses i didn't know if they were from canon.

As for new houses, there were the overlord house of Kraken, an offspring of the greyjoys, who had a redesigned red kraken on black. House Blackhorn, an offspring of house Goodbrother who had changed the red of his ancestral shield to blue, while keeping the black horn from which he had taken his name. Finally there was the second greatest of the houses of the region. House Blackiron, descendants of the first real royal house of the iron islands, the Greyirons, recently extinguished by the andals.

That meant there was a real claim on the islands on cape kraken. Not that i really cared, about a claim of any sort, but when i inevitably conquered the islands, it would be legitimizing my rule if i appointed these houses as lords of the various islands.

That conquest would have to wait though. If i was going to conquer the islands, i needed a standing army. For that i needed a system that could support a massive host. Even in winter. I also needed muskets to make the training simplified as much as possible. Also if i were to take the islands, i needed cannons and ships to wield them.

I had many ideas for achieving those things, but they would need to wait, until i had dealt with the Boltons. Everything would need to wait until i had dealt with the boltons, even a standing army, crucial as it would be for my future plans.

If there had been any doubt in my mind i needed a standing army, asap, it was killed by the last few months.

It had taken 4 months before my levy host had finally gathered, and i didnt even have all the men i could have, as i lost 2000 men from lord umber before they ever reached me.

Also my frontiers were unguarded, which i had little doubt the damned pirates of east and west would take advantage of. The news Tom got from the citadel was that the newest King of the sistermen had died recently, less than a year after his predecessor had kicked the bucket. Unfortunately it had not lead to a horrible succession crisis as his brother had stepped in to take the throne unchallenged.

The iron islands were a little better,but not necessarily by that much. Horgan Hoare, better known as priestkiller, had recently died, and his young brother had taken the throne. At least that's what my maester told me. What my lords told me was that the traders of the stoney shore that traded with the iron islands, had some interesting news from the isles which the maesters did not mention in letters.

The new king Harrald Hoare was making a lot of new weapons apparently. What he was making them for, no one was sure, but there were theories. The one i hoped was true was that the young hoare was planning on waging war on the followers of the drowned god and forcibly convert the islands to the seven. If so it was a plan doomed to failure, as the canon history had proved, but i rather hoped it was the case. Failing or no, a huge civil war on the iron islands right now would be a godsent. It would give me all the time i needed to deal with the boltons without fearing ironborn invasions.

The other popular theory was that he was planning on invading a kingdom that followed the old gods, and help his fellow andals. If so i didn't have to guess hard who that would be. I could beat such an invasion of course, but it would take time, effort and Most importantly, lots and lots of northern lives.

Only time would tell, what he planned.

Finally the army began to reach winterfell, it split off into two contingents. The host itself torned east where space had been prepared for them south in wintertown.

The other smaller one which was made up off the nobles instead began pouring in through Winterfell's south gate.

Before that happened though, i began to make my way back to the guest hall. It was time for the final meal before we left.

As i entered the hall and made my way to the high table, my lords all around the hall was chatting away about this and that. Most were pretty happy that we would finally be moving on and into the dreadfort land.

So was i to be perfectly blunt. Even ignoring how i wanted to get this war over with and actually reform the north, this crew of northmen i had assembled were an unruly lot. Nobles and smallfolk alike.

As i had expected, the northern lords had all tested me once they came to Winterfell. Just like they had with robb. Thankfully no big physical confrontation had taken place, like with the Greatjon, but they had all prodded me for different things they wanted.

Thankfully, one advantage i had over Robb was that to a man, they all wanted to see house Bolton brought to it's knees. Pretty much all of them had some blood vendetta against the flayed men.

I had been able to tap into that hatred a lot as i had discovered. On the other end of the spectrum there had been the petty shit and claims. Some houses had lost land during the last big Winterfell/Dreadfort war and wanted it back.

Some wanted stupid shit like the right to dam certain rivers as they pleased. One wanted to make royal hunting licenses less restrictive. Another was bitching about the monopoly of steel, only to shut up when i revealed i broke said monopoly over half a year ago.

One clan leader from the wolfswood had asked me to contribute. More men to deal with poachers in the wolfswood, which as it turned out was all property of the King, namely me. I had no problems promising to help with the poachers, but it was the timing of the request that galled me. We were at war. This sort of shit should by all logic wait until we had won.

Alas, that was not the nature of politics.

Anyhow, i had made promises, some courteous refusals, promised i'd consider stuff such as claims and so on and so on.

About the only thing i had been truly cold over was my bombs. A lot of my lords had asked for Wallbreakers, having heard how easily they broke the walls of the dawn tower. I had had a very hard stance on the matter, and dismissed each request so coldly that none had so far made a second personal request.

It was important to establish a firm and strong monopoly over gunpowder in all it's forms. I would be rather generous with gunpowder down the line, but that would be granted by the King for help with agriculture, mining, construction, defence for Castles, and god help me, hunting. There would be a structured system where people requested it, and i granted it. It would NOT be given out as political favours. I had to establish that precedence from the very start.

I had to make sure the nobility NEVER got enough gunpowder to be able to effectively use it offensively in war. That way, they could never effectively rebel.

Finally, the Krakenmen entered into my guest hall. As had become standard by now, the house leaders walked up to the high table, kneelt and said the standard northern oaths. I listened and answered with my own liege oaths.

If there was one thing i had decided after listening to all these regional variants of oaths to their overlord of stark, it was that i would be that i was gonna hammer out a single set of oaths for all the northern lords to use. Having to fine tune my own oaths for each specific variant was way too tiresome.

"Now my lords, Rise" i said as i finished my own oath. I motioned to lord Kraken to come join me at the high table along with Lord Blackiron and the young Lord Hoare.

The rest mingled into smaller cliches at the long tables. As they made their way up to the high table, i studies the men's faces. I had been sorta right. There was a different facial structure amongst the Krakenmen, but it wasn't nearly as big as i had thought it would be. Mostly it was just a bit too different eye shapes than the rest for them to really look like the rest of the northmen. The most obvious differences was the hair color. Black wasn't uncommon in the north, but the vast majority had brown hair of varying shades. The krakenmen had the opposite.

Lord Kraken seated himself at my left side, where i had planned for him to sit.

"My Magnar." he said courteously as he sat down. He waited for a second to speak further as the meal was being brought in. Nothing fanciful today, just regular good bread, meat and cheese. You did not eat fancifull sticky food, when a lot of the men wore mail.

"Soo…" Kraken began as he had assembled his food into something to eat.

"How long until we march? Your message said we are marching on today and not bother changing to something more comfertable. Just a quick well made meal, then we go, is that about it?"

"Aye" I replied. "We leave in around two hours. You were the last host to reach winterfell."

Lord Kraken didnt have an outburst at that, but instead began to look out over the sea of lords in my halls. Pretty much the entire kingdoms nobility were here in some form, the only exception being the crannogmen and the skagosi. Well, almost everyone else.

"We are the last you say, yet i do not see the Giant of Umber here. Will your uncle not be joining us for the campaign?".

"No. Royce hit Last Heart with his army as they had just assembled. My uncle died and the castle is currently under siege. Our march east is partially to force him to drop that siege."

That had been a pretty hard blow too. Ignoring that i had blood ties to house umber, they had been one of my two strongest vassals along with the Dustin's. Both having around 2000 men. Also i trusted the Umbers far more than i trusted the Dustins.

Kraken looked a bit troubled, but not surprised.

"Then… We should have around 8000-9000 men or so?"

"9242 actually. At least if you brought the 800 you said you had on the march." At least that would be the number if i had not lost yet another dozen to another barfight in wintertown.

He took a big bite out of his bread and meat then just sat quietly as he ate. That was…. Refreshing to be honest. I had half expected to have to listen to him ask me for meaningless petty politics for the hour before we marched. But having learned the war situation he seemed content to eat in peace.

Which worked just fine for me, i had stuff to consider before i left winterfell. How to talk to Rickard about me sending him in secret to barrowton, my own armor that i would have to wear and just how i was gonna structure the army as we marched.

It was time. I had delayed this far longer than i should have. As everyone was prepping for the final step out, i was walking towards a lower chamber in beneath the Maesters Tower.

I had been here before. And i had taken out the chambers inventory before. I had been forced to. While the wast majority of crimes i had judged had gotten men sent to the wall, there had been several that i had had to execute. A man who had broken guest right and raped his cousin then tried to force her into a marriage, Several men who had commited murder in wintertown.

There had only been one punishment fit for that in northern law. And as judge i had had to carry it out. It had been a pretty sickening experience as one could expect. But i had retained composure in front of my men. It had haunted me in the days after, but i hadn't had a breakdown. I had also been certain of all mens guilt, so at least i hadn't feared i sentenced innocents to death.

There was something in having a judge carry out executions themselves it seemed.

For all those executions i had had to come here, to fetch my means for the execution.

As i reached the door and the 4 men guarding the door began to open it for me, i was struck by the icy cold air the moment the door was opened. As i entered, the chill was all around me, other than my feet. The walls and floor was as hot as the rest of the castle. It was just the air itself that felt like a freezer.

Upon a pedestal in the center lay that which i seeked. A pale long sword of transparent blue ice.

According to the tales in the house of Stark, Brandon the Breaker had taken this weapon as his price when he defeated the Night's King. Either way, it was clear what it was. An Other Blade.

I had vaguely recalled reading that house stark had had another Sword named Ice before their Modern one from Valyria, but i hadn't really speculated on said blade before my new Life.

Either way, this weapon was the most dangerous melee weapon in the North. And it was mine.

As i reached the long pedestal i reached out with my right hand covered in a thick mitten. I felt the cold, vaguely upon my skin, but not nearly as badly as i had first expected when i first used this weapon. So long as i had a fur covered hand, i would be able to wield it just fine.

My… Squire i would call him, but his actual title was as my weapon carrier, Lucifer Cassel, quickly walked up to me and handed me Ice's scabbard. It was two carved pieces of long hard stone, kept together by leather bindings and nails through it. Metal scabbards simply didn't do for ice.

I held ice up before my face and inspected the swords edge. It was perfect. The longsword's edge was as sharp and straight now as it was centuries ago.

Then i took the scabbard and i slid it carefully into the stone holders. Then i handed it over to Lucifer and began walking out. I vaguely wondered whether the room would be as cold when i came back here.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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May 9, 2019

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#205

After a week of marching, We finally reached the Dawn tower. Or what was left of it.

My host was in pretty good spirits. They had been ever since we marched out thankfully. It was weird, most of them had been together for at least over a month before we marched, yet it wasn't before we marched that they truly became an army.

A month ago there had been murderous bar brawls and the occasional knifing. Now they marched together and sang as they did. They intermingled freely while camped, and generally they had started to act as countrymen.

Funny what not being cooped up in a city waiting for months on end, could do for morale.

One host, one army, one purpose under under one banner.

At least that was the image i got on the ground. On the top it was the same mess that Robb's host was.

Oh, they had gotten over the initial testing period, but it was easy to see that under the surface they were volatile mess. House rivalries just waiting to explode.

Everyone had grudges. House Ryswell had gotten into a pretty big fight with house Dustin past Spring, and was still pissed off about their king having taken The side of the Dustin's on the matter.

They were loyal due to the Ryswell twins back in Winterfell. No ward had ever suffered for being one. Except those whose parents displeased the king's of winter. They came back short of a head. At least i think that's how the quote went. I desperately hoped i did not have to deal with that concept before i had an army up and running.

Once i had a standing host loyal to me alone, it would be a better deterrent than any hostages ever could be. I would not be forced to either execute children or be seen as weak. Not when i could smash any rebellion to pieces with ease.

As for Lord Dustin's part he enjoyed antagonising Lord Ryswell way too much. I had had to stop having both with me whenever i wanted to chat with either on the march.

As for other rivalries there were plenty of smaller but no less bitter. The forest clans who were directly under house Stark were not fond of clans that answered to Deepwood Motte and vise versa.

None of the Lords on the west coast liked the lord of Cape Kraken, exclusively because of their ironborn origins. The Krakenmen hated the Dustin's for previous conflicts with them over the bay between them.

And then there was stupid feuds that had nothing to do with geographical politics.

House Woodfoot of Bear Island and House Tallhart of Torrhen's square despised each other after the previous Lord of Bear island had run off together with the Sister of the current Master of Torrhen's square.

Since Brandon Woodfoot had long since fled the kingdom for the Arbor, far away from Ice and his King's Justice there wasn't Much king Jon could do about it legally speaking other than try and broker peace. It hadn't worked in that neither had buried the Axe, but due to where their seats were, there wasn't much they could do to each other anyway.

Unsurprisingly, Lady Sansa Woodfoot had not taken kindly to being blamed for her Brother running off with a woman from the mainland and abandoning his actual wife, who had been the daughter off one of his Master houses.

That had caused quite the mess on bear island itself.

The Woodfoots had instead laid the Blame on

On Lyanna Tallhart for seducing their lord. Which had just pissed of house Tallhart even more.

It had been over 20 years since then, yet the two houses hated each other as much as the Ryswell and Dustin's did. God feudal politics were stupid.

Then there were the alliances. Feudal politics meant that the most unlikely of pairings would form internal powerblocks for no other reasons than marriages and personal friendships, no matter how little sense they made. House Hoare of Cape Kraken had married into house Cerwyn and the two Lords were best buds who would defend each other to the Hilt. Same went Wull and Dustin. And Woodfoot and Fisher.

And on and on it went.

All of it meant i had to prepare all my partners for each days journey carefully, always taking into consideration which lords and houses hated each other, which was allied with who and that on top of keeping in mind each lords personalities.

Lord Kraken was as uninterested in the kingdom at large as i was in things that went on on the mainland south of the Neck. Unless prompted he'd just carry on in silence all day long.

Lord Dustin obviously wanted my favor and constantly did his best to glue his lips to my ass. Other than that, he also had a talent for making enemies with constant jabs at anyone outside his personal allies. At least he had some wit behind him. Now, i just had to figure out how to make him useful for my future plans.

Lady Woodfoot was pretty much how i had imagined Maege in her thirties. Gruff, honest, direct and with a snarky side. Truth be told she would probably the lord i liked the most, if it hadn't been for her obvious desire to plunder as much as she could during this campaign. She was hardly alone in that though. Lords and common men alike talked with no hesitation of the plunder they were looking forward too. They were a bloodthirsty lot these northmen of mine.

Lord Ryswell despised me, but he was as courteous as he needed to be not to offend me and risk his kids necks.

The mountain clan leaders were, in my opinion at least, almost interchangeable other than their age. Gruff, boisterous, eager for battle, loved to drink, boast and fuck. Some were more weary than others, but they all were from that template.

Master Roose Glover was a middle aged man who was amiable enough, liked to joke, intermingle with the rest of the nobles as well as me, and like Dustin, he was also very eager for my favour, though not nearly as much of an ass kisser as Dustin was. He was also the only one other than Blackmyre to bring a warg with him. In his case one of his Elite.

Sansa had been helpful enough to Point both wargs out for me at winterfell, having seen what they were the moment she saw them. Good eyes on that girl. Back at Winterfell i had let both be for the moment, as i didn't want to have to deal with the fuss of accepting wargs openly.

Now however i was gonna have to deal with the two of them directly.

As for all my nobles, it felt weird dealing with them. I had been friendly enough i thought, i talked to all nobles often enough no matter the rank. Masters, chiefs, common lords and the highlords. I invited all of them to join me personally to chat on the march.

I wanted to be seen as a king who cared. And i had come to overall like a lot of these men. At the same time though, i was also gonna fuck them over in the future, and i kept that in mind for all my interactions.

I was going to abolish the right of the First Night, force a scutage tax on every one of them to pay for the army i was planning, build a strong standing army loyal to me capable of smashing any opposition from my nobles, introduce a sheriff system which would eventually replace the right of pits and gallows. I was gonna force the north out of the iron age. And i had no doubt i would need to pull it kicking and screaming.

There was so much of my plans they wouldn't realise i was going to fuck them over on. So for now, i played the part of charming young king interested in hearing all they had to tell me.

As my horse trotted up to the castle entrance, the lords of the crannogmen were outside to meet Me. None of them looked particularly eager at my coming. Both Fenn and Cray looked extremely Tense, while Blackmyre wore a look of resigned tiredness. He should. If i had been planning on cracking down hard punishments for what happened at the tower, it would be on his head it would fall.

Lucky for him, i had not however.

I put on a smile, as i began "My lords, i am glad to have heard of your glorious success on the battle of the Dawn Road" At that i saw the common crannogmen stand a bit straighter and self satisfied grins was on all faces.

"Aye, our magnar, it was a great victory. Only possible thanks to your heel and shieldbreakers."

"Nonsense. I knew your great skills with the Bow is unmatched in all the Kingdom. So i simply created a tool to help your great skills reach their full potential."

The true goal here was to make the crannogmen feel more valued by me, but if the idea that i could just think up deadly new weapons on the fly took hold amongst the common and nobles alike, that was good too.

"On another note see you've prepared the grounds around for our arrival. I trust you've also prepared the food i asked for?"

Lord Howland Fen, whose tenseness, had rapidly vanished from his face quickly began talking as Blackmyre was only beginning to open his mouth "We have our Magnar, we have hunted and scoured the Land around clean for prey. All the Meat we've harvested should last the host for the next weeks with little difficulty."

I had little doubt Blackmyres Warg was a large reason for the great success of the hunters. But i didn't bring it up for now.

Blackmyre glanced at fenn clearly annoyed, but before anything else i interrupted him.

"In that case we shall camp here for the night. As for you my Lords, i would be honored if you would join me in my own tent for Dinner in a few hours?".

"Of course our Magnar" Blackmyre replied stiffer than usual. Judging by his unchanging expression i guess he assumed i was planning on bringing down the hammer privately rather than out here in the open surrounded by all his archers.

"Excellent. I shall send for you then, when the Food is ready, so you can join me along with Master Glover." With that i took my Horse to over where my men were beginning to set up the my tent along with the other ones.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#215

It took around 3 hours before i could finally call the lords of the neck to dine with me and the lord of Deepwood Motte. I had chosen him so i could see the look on his face when i made the reveal about the wargs. It would probably be quite entertaining.

As for the the food, the meal in question was deer meat, well spiced and expertly made. I might not have the full resources of Winterfell's kitchen for my chefs to work with, but the men who made my meals knew their stuff. One of the perks of being king i supposed. You always got a good meal.

As for the meat itself, it was from the great hunt the crannogmen had done on my orders. They had probably cleared the forest clean for miles, but whatever. I Had worse things to worry about. Or some hilarious things to worry about, that could be the case as well. I kinda hoped i did, i needed more laughter in my new life.

The first to arrive was the lord of deepwood Motte, Roose Glover, dressed in a wool Tunic dyed red, with a gray mailed fist woven into it. One thing i had learned about the Northern Lords was that for all they sneered at the finery and silk of southerners(especially andals) they weren't particularly better. It was only whereas the rest of the world used fine silk, they wore fine wool, expertly dyed and embroidered. And along with those wool tunics and overcoats, they wore bear, wolf, and in very rare cases mammoth fur. They went to great lengths to show their family coats,even when the more simple choice would be to wear only pure fur and leather.

As for me, i wore a simple overcoat of pure white with a simple but very well embroidered grey wolf on it. As for the rest of my clothing I kinda looked like TV Eddard Stark, just stylished with in white and grey colors.

As Roose entered i grinned up from my meal, and greeted him.

"Ah Roose, you finally came i see. I was starting to worry the meat would cool before you finally got here". That… Wasn't too far off actually. I had waited maybe 15 minutes before he finally got here after i had gotten the messenger back from. His errand to summon him. And the Neck lords still hadn't gotten here.

Roose smiled carefully, as he sat down on the table and began to prep his meal from the deer meat.

"I'm sorry my magnar, i had not expected the summons to be this early in the day, and i could hardly appear join my King at his meal in Mail." He poured himself a bronze cup worth of mead as he continued. "I suspect that our Lords of the Neck has similar expectations".

"That or they're afraid i'll have their heads for the Mess at the tower."

Glover finished his cup and contemplated it as he answered "Only a fool would assume so my Magnar. If you wished to punish them for it, you would hardly invite them to eat at your table, and grant them guestright. Still… a rather sad thing what happened to House Dawn."

Aye, sad indeed. Though what was going through his head was that he assumed i was sad because of the Extinction of house Dawn, a lordly house that had been one of the first to bend their knees to Winterfell after it's founding. For this final war they had had the rather big misfortune to have been annexed by the Bolton's after the last war. Before that the lords of the dawnforest had been a wolf house through and through. I had no wish to see it's extinction, but to be honest, i didnt care too much about the house itself.

I was sad the people of this settlement was all dead, but i had no particular connection to house Dawn. What pissed me off far more was the complete disregard For my orders and the destruction of Of the rather large Dawn Tower. The sack had been yet another sharp reminder that i needed professional soldiers. Men who wouldn't burn down things they had been ordered to spare at the slightest problem.

There was of course the other problem too. "Aye, a sad end for both the House and Tower both. Whoever becomes the new Lord will have quite the work ahead of him to rebuild it."

Roose nodded "Aye, your wallbreakers have certainly changed the future of warfare, that is easy to see. Fortresses will be a thing of the past from now on." He sipped some more mead.

"Oh i wouldn't say they will be useless by any means. I have some ideas how to make walls able to withstand wallbreakers. But that will require ripping down all outer walls in the kingdom and making them anew. It will be a mammoth undertaking."

Yet another damned thing to deal with in the future. It seemed like there was an neverending list that i constantly updated and never got to actually do any work on.

After that we chatted in peace for another 30 minutes, before the lizard lions finally made their entrance as one my guard came and informed me that the lords of the neck had finally gotten their asses to dine with me.

I immediately noticed that other than lord Fen, both Cry and Blackmyre were not dressed for dining at all. While Howland Fen had once more dressed in his fine purple clothing, the other two were in mail. They also worse daggers at their belts but other than that they were unarmed. There were 6 guards in the room, all with spears, mail and side weapons. And in any case, i had prepared the table and the chairs of my guests so that they sat opposite me, and with a Wide table between us. They would not be able to lunge across and stab me from a sitting position.

"My Lords" I said with a wide smile "You come late to the feast, the meat has long gone cold i'm. Afraid, but worry not" I snapped my fingers to a servant at the tent opening. "We shall have more warm Meat for for you soon enough".

The three men sat down around the table, two left of Roose and Fen to his right.

It was easy to read their expressions. Fen seemed pretty jovial, with a happy smile ready to continue chatting business.

Crey was really anxious and obviously very, very worried. His eyes constantly glanced to the guards at his sides, and i could tell he worried drastically about the guard standing right behind him. He was also the only one who the moment he sat, hastily grabbed a decent piece of meat and ripped off a chunk of it, then downed it with mead. He was rather obviously eager to enjoy the protection of guest right.

Finally the Blackmyre wore a resigned look on his face, and though he sat and ate like Crey had, he did not have any haste in his movement. His expression and one single eye showed pretty clearly that he had resigned Himself to whatever fate i had in store for him. Luckily for him, that fate was to go back and hunt some more.

As the three got seated and began to dig into the meat, none of them seeming to care it had cooled, and not one of them seeming to be interested in being the one to start the conversation, i decided that i might as well begin.

"Well, my lords, i have to say, i'm rather impressed with your performance here." To that Fen perked up "You completely Obliterated the force Royce Sent, and you took Dawn Tower while losing less than 20 men. A rather impressive outing."

As Fenn grinned, Crey looked anxious and Blackmyre resigned, i sighed as i continued "A shame about that final chapter though…."

At that all three flinched and looked a mixture of anxious, nervous and worried looking at me, awaiting judgement.

"However, i am not interested in chatting about the past. Let us instead talk about the future"

The three blinked, as i quickly moved on before any of f them could speak.

"I have stationed around 400 men at the bridge to the west. And i plan to send a hundred archers from your forces to back them up, just in case. Needless to say, the Blackmyre Levy WILL be amongst that force. The rest will join us on the march east. "

I looked cooly at Lord Blackmyre as he nodded slowly.

"I… See. Am i to assume that lord Fenn will be taking command over the Crannog forces?"

It was a humiliating thing in feudal politics, to be stripped of command by your overlord after fucking up. But there were worse things. A noose for example. Not that Blackmyre had to fear either from me at the moment.

"No. You will still be leading the contingent here. Lord Cray will be the one who will be in charge of the hundred i send west.ć

A silence, rose forth, as both lord Crey, Fenn and a curious Glover glanced at Blamyre then me, then back again.

There was a threat here. One i had just laid on the table. And an ultimatum as well. Separating a lord, from his levies was generally not done. There were precedents for it in the North, but it very rarely happened. Generally when it did it was for pragmatic reasons. Or to make a point, like i was doing now.

By separating him from his own personal. Men, i had just made it very clear that i would not tolerate a second great fuck up. The next time, he would be almost alone, without many men who owed him fealty. Symbolically i Had also defanged him before both his peers, who noen knew he was without personal blades.

The final point i had made was that i had issued an ultimatum. Go along with it. Or else.

Blackmyre choose not to challenge it.

"As you say our Magnar."

I smiled, the only big worry i had easing away. Now to less complex matters than the game of federal politics. Namely magical statebuilding.

"Good. Well in that case i suppose we can move on to the other topic i wanted to discuss."

The three relaxed, all 3 of them relaxed visibly. Happy that i had seemingly settled the big issue that they had worried about.

"Namely the Wargs you've brought with you on the Campaign."

The mood in the room cooled as if three horn blasts signaling Others had sounded.

To me the reaction was pretty comical. All 3 crannogmen instantly turned as white as old weirwoods, while Roose who had been drinking a deep mouthful of mead, choked on the beverage and then coughed, harked and gasped as he tried to regain his breath, his coughed up mead sullying his fine red clothing.

The men, who i had all been handpicked by harren to not show any reaction played their part well. According to harren, they were all trustworthy not to blab on about what they learned, they had been told of the subject matter beforehand, and as Harren had promised they all played the part of bored guards perfectly. As if what we were discussing was perfectly normal.

To my surprise, it was lord Cray who broke the ensuing silence.

"My Magnar… We… We can explain."

"I hardly think an explanation is necessary. Master Glover brought a warg as one of his elites for the same reason you did. You wished to have the best scouts possible,hoping to earn my favour while at the same time hoping i would not notice the Warg in question."

I grinned a sly smile and nodded to Glover, also ashen faced, now that he had gotten his breath back.

"At least the Warg Roose brought with him had some semblance of self control and subtlety. The warg from the Neck looked as if he was about to shit his breeches when he saw me that first time. Not exactly inconspicuous that one."

"In any case… Please do not insult my intelligence by making a claim you did not know what they are. You knew. That is why you brought them here. The only question, is what happens now."

At that Cray tensed and i saw his hand slip down to his belt. Better get this show on the road then, before my guard put a spear through his back. I saw the guy behind him lower his spear just in case.

"By my grandfathers laws, any man who hides wargs from the king, is to be put to death. Highlords a smallfolk alike. And i am nothing if not lawful. However, as king, it is my prerogative to change laws as well."

At that, i saw Crey's hand stop, and the other 3 finally seemed to regain some Semblance of feeling again.

I chuckled as i continued.

"I have no wish to enforce my Grandfather's tyrannical anti warg laws, but neither will i allow a return to the old days, where wargs were allowed to form their own society outside the one of my subjects. From now on, we will use a new system of laws in regards to wargs. To make them true subjects of the King."

"Soo…." Fenn asked hesitantly. "You plan to make new laws regarding Wargs them my Magnar?".

"Oh please. Give me more credit than that."

I pulled up some papers i had lying on a side table for this. As i handed each on them a page, i continued.

"I drafted new laws on the matter before i even called any of you to Winterfell."

I paused for a moment, to let each take a quick glance through of the document, before i continued.

"Now, when youve read that through, feel free to ask whatever you wish to know. I'm sure you have questions."

Last edited: Jun 3, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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The day was of average northern temperature. In other words there was a mild chilly wind, but the base temperature was decent if not amazingly warm.

Whatever the temperature, it was a day when blood would flow.

After nearly two new weeks of marching, we had finally reached the point where battle would happen. Or so you'd think. Rooyce had so far managed to avoid a pitch battle, which showed good instinct on his part.

We outnumbered his host by around 4000 men if my reports were right. Even if i didn't have bombs and grenades and wargs, that would have been a massive edge for me.

Still night raids had not availed him due to my wargs. So he had changed tactics to a scorched earth campaign. Burning this section of land so that there was no farm food to feast my host. Even with the vast hunting my army did, i couldn't last forever.

I had to force a battle, which had proven maddeningly difficult even with wargs to report on the opposite army's movement.

So i had changed tactics. I would simply smash my way to the Dreadfort and force him to meet me at the very heart of his kingdom.

Currently i was still west of the river that lay west of the Dreadfort. It might not be as big as the white knife, but it made up for it by being practically impossible to cross most places due to being a massive set of steep ravines with razor sharp volcanic edges. At least so far in land. My reports indicated it was much better closer to the sea.

Over this area there were two bridges. One far north almost directly by the dreadfort, and one much farther south. If i punched through the northern one, i could march straight on to Royce's seat of power.

Standing between me and that goal however was 1500 men, most archers and the rest heavy infantry.

They also had the high ground, had dug a ditch and sat Stakes.

And on top of all of that they could retreat across the bridge if all else failed.

The field of battle was a valley, with deep sheer cliffs to the north and east. The northern ones were impassable from the south side, but there were some places to the east you could scale. Not that it helped me very much here, those places were not far enough north to assault the defenders with arrows from above. And to the east of the cliff there was the river deep below, so i couldn't flank them either.

Right at the west side of the bridge there was a small flat plateau, with a deep decline once you left the plateau, making the entire thing look like it was a giant steep hill. Which is kinda exactly what it was. A hill that could only be attacked from south to west, where i had to charge upwards to attack, had a decent sized host to defend it, tons of archer, and a ditch with spikes in them.

That final one was also hidden behind the first wall of men, hoping i wouldn't see it, charge, then as they stepped over it carefully on retreat, my men would plunge into the ditch. A good, decent plan. Pity for them i had a warg give me an areal tactical view of the battle.

As it stood my only real problem was the archers. My grenades could destroy the spikes in the ditches, but i couldn't send the throwers forward to throw them before the arrows stopped firing. Which meant i only had one real option. It would be an plan with some moving parts, but i hoped it would go on without hitch. Hopefully that, and not the men charging against orders unto spikes.

As the final preparation began for the battle, Stanford Frost drank a horn of mead. He always fought better after a horn of mead. It also helped him stay calm. From a dug up hill behind the lines he had a very clear view of the entire battle, easily being able to see above his own men.

Far below, the Wolves finally began to move. Well it was about time. They had been standing around for hours and deciding on what to do before they charged.

What had come out of it was a long and thin line 3 men deep all around, stretching from west to south-east of the valley, all marching in a relatively calm orderly manner.

The vast majority of the host however remained back, behind the wall of men. The common foot he guessed. It wasn't too hard to guess by the fact that few of them gleamed in the sun, while that was practically the case for all of the men on the march.

That meant that the ones about to attack him were all the elite of The Kingdom of Winter. Well that was fucking perfect. Not only would all of them have both armor and shields but they wouldn't flee at the first volley.

All of that was bad enough, but the worst was that even holding back the common men they still outnumbered his forces almost two to one.

Not good odds. But he could deal with it. So long as the first step of the plan went as he had planned.

Which… was not off to a great start. The wolves didn't charge as he had hoped they would. Instead the army had first lined up all along the valley, loosly looked together their shields, then began to slowly march towards him. The shield wall line had several large holes between the overall lines which would close the farther they got up along the valley and it got narrower between the mountains. If he had had cavalry he could easily have charge downhill between those gaps and hit the army in the rear.

That was a pipe dream however. The Kingdom had maybe 200 cavalry in total, and none of them were present. So in effect there was nothing he could do to exploit this obvious weak spot. Instead could only watch as the army got closer and closer, and the gaps closed up. Well, watch and fire down arrows at the bastards, he did that too.

When he had first come here, he had gotten one of his archers to fire from this position to see how far he would be able to fire. He had then marked the range with a pile of stones up against the east wall. The wolves didn't seem to have noticed the pile, but he certainly saw when the line crossed it.

The horn blast had sounded and his troops had gotten around to doing their jobs. First they had nocked, then they had aimed up and drawn, then the had let loose andfired. A rain of death descended up the wolf lines.

Of course this first volley didn't do much, but it certainly made the wolf march slower, as men were halted by the sudden force hitting their shields from above.

The next arrow rain didnt do much more either, nor the one after that, but on the third he finally began to hear screams. The Song of dying wolves finally began, and he smiled as the next volley was prepared and fired. More screams followed, more dead wolves.

Then as they finally reached another the pile of rocks, the archers in front instead aimed directly downwards. More screams as many who had become used to arrows from above were surprised when arrows suddenly slammed into them from the front.

And so it went on, and on, as the wolves marched, and the arrows flew. The by the time the army was finally beginning to near his lines, he counted maybe 400 dead judging by the corpse behind the lines.

Now it was time for the final push, he knew as his archer retreated and his foot stepped forward. The foot wouldn't fight, simply cover the view of the trench with stakes in them.

Then, a shrill hideous sound was heard. It was suddenly joined by other sounds similar to it, all along the Stark line. He… Had never heard anything like it. It sounded like a whistle, only it was much louder, shriller, and kept only one tone.

At the sound the Wolf army halted. And he heard the sound of clacking stones from behind the lines, followed up by the glow of what could only be fire. Were they lighting torches?

Why?

What possible reason could those serve? His infantry stood nervous, looking at the scene. He doubted most of them saw the flames behind the shields he did, or at least not as clearly as he did. The wolves had lit the torches all along the line.

Then, for around a minute of all of them just stood there looking at each other, with the wolves not advancing, his foot being ready to retreat at the first sign, and his archers now being unable to fire due to their comrades in the front.

Then another shrill sound was heard, and all along the line men began to emerge from the shield wall. All of them carried a torch in one hand, and a small orb of metal in the other. They were wearing a queer form of armor, which he couldn't quite get a good look at from this distance. All he was certain off was that it was neither mail nor plate.

Strappen over their shoulders they each carried a satchel around their waists. On their heads strong shining helmets he was certain was steel, though he had no idea what their design was supposed to be, as it resembled none of the classic designs he had ever seen.

The newcomers moved at another pace than their shield bearing comrades. They ran straight up to the line, before they…. Stopped, lit the orbs on fire, threw them at his foot, then ran away back towards the shieldwall.

What.

That had to be the most inane tactic he had ever seen.

Then all along the line, thunder burst from the ground. The cacophony deafened him, but his sight was not harmed. As the pain in his ears brought him to his knees, he could still see clearly enough. Sudden bursts of fire had sprung up from the orbs the strangely armored men had carried.

The effect of these bursts reminded him of castle stone he had once seen hit by lightning from the heavens.

It had devastated his lines. Those who had not died began to move back in complete panic and disarray. Many were so desperate to flee that they did not take care when crossing the trench and accidentally impaled themselves on the stakes.

For a moment, he just stared, dumbfounded by the sight, still on his knees from the pain in his ears. Then as his hearing began to return, the sight of the orb carriers running forward again shoock him back to reality as he began to scream "FIRE, FIRE! KILL THE ORB CARRIERS! QUICKLY!".

His men carried out their orders but not quickly enough, as the men reached the trench. As the arrows began to fire some had already throw their entire satchel down the trench, the torch after it then run back to the walls as if the others were chasing them. Some were still unlatching the satchel ad the arrows began to fly. Some fell, one was hit by no less than seven arrows, then in his death throttles he got to his feet and threw himself down the trench. A massive gulf of fire burst from that spot, and his archers stopped firing in shock and confusion. Then all around the trench other bursts of fire and thunder followed.

For around a minute these sounds from hell followed, his archers being unable to stop them anymore.

With a sinking feeling in his guts, he forced himself to his feet to get a full look of the trenches.

All along the trench the entire thing had been blown to pieces. There were spots where the stakes still miraculously stood, but that was a cold comfort. There were no true obstacle now. The wolves could charge at anytime. And his foot were in shambles.

A horn blast came from the wolf ranks. A sound of death for him and his. The shield wall broke as men began to charge forward in a mass of white, red, yellow and a dozen other colors.

He did the only thing he could, as a a dozen elites ran up the hill he was on, all with axes and swords in hand to cleave his life from his body.

As he screamed "RETREAT!" He himself made no move to do so. An eerie calm came over him as he unlatched his own axe from it's holster. His own elites around him also doing the same. There weren't many of them at the hill though. Maybe around a dozen.

As the charge finally came, he lifted his shield as the first man came at him. Sword held high, he attempted to stab him in the face. As the blade lunged forward he lifted his shield and the blade skreened off the iron rimmed ironwood, and went to the side. His axe came up and hit the man under his mail, between his legs. Even when it just was the blunt edge, He unsurprisingly went down instantly and Stanfords axe made a quick blow to his neck to finish him off.

The neck man came with a warmace, which hit the top of the shield, and dented it. The mace did not lodge though as an axe or sword might have. As he stepped back and prepared for another blow, Stanford instead stepped forward and punched him in the face with the butt of the dented shield.

The force wasn't nearly as hard as it could have been as he didn't have the wind up he needed to really make it hurt. But hurt it most certainly did, as the iron hit him straight in the nose. The pain was enough for the man to flinch and cry out as he planted his feet and swung his axe hard sideways. The head hit his opponent straight in the leg, and bit deep, through his bone and almost severed the leg completely.

The man screamed in horrifying pain, but as he was about to finish him off, another man attacked him, this time with another sword.

As he ducked backwards, the blade raked his cheek, and he could feel the blood begin to flow down into his mouth. Not above his eyes though, that was good.

His opponent this time was a boy just out of manhood. Still, his face did not betray any fear. Brave lad. On his shield was a Black bear on green. He had no idea whose sigil that was.

For a second they just stared at each other, before Stanford Lunged, preparing a bash with his shield. The youngling stood his ground however, and meet his blow with his own shield. Brave, but not the smartest move against an opponent much bigger than you.

For a second, he held, then he was forced back as Stanford put all his weight into it. He was showed back, and flung slightly to the side, so that his back was turned. Stanfords axe came down hard and cleaved his shield arm from his body.

The boy Screamed in pain and agony. As he lifted, and swung his axe to finish it, a shield suddenly materialised as if from nowhere and blocked. It was a well placed block too, as his axe head hit the shield boss, not the wood. The axe stopped. The shield arm barely faltered from the all force blow. Then with immense force the shield him him straight in the chest and forced him back.

As he stumbled he almost fell, but managed to barely hold himself on his feet. He blinked as he took in the scene. His men were all dead, with fallen wolves all around. All around the hill the wolves had swarmed,and were pushing against the broken host. On the hill though, there was just him, the boy and the new man with the strong arms. At least for the moment.

The man was short, and was dressed in the standard stark colors of white, with the Direwolf proudly on his shield. Over his white clothing he wore the strange, unusual armor the throwers had worn. It looked somewhat similar to scale armor, but instead of scales, it was composed of hundreds of small rectangular steel plates sewn together. Yes, he could see the advantages of that. Easier to make, better against arrows, and overall a new superior form of armor.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The opponent also wore a strange helmet which covered his entire head. It looked like an overturned cup, with a long slit over the eyes to give sight, and holes in the cheeks to grant air, while still keeping the protection of a full helmet while still letting the wearer breathe.

It was a brilliant design.

Then the man barreled forward and attacked. Like Stanford he used an axe for combat, and the weapon swung forward sideways with such force that had it connected with Stanfords head it would have cleaved his through his helmet and skull.

Stanford ducked, and bashed foreward with his shield only to be meet with his opponents own shield. For a few seconds it seemed like they would push against each other until the other broke. Then fast as an arrow, his opponent had brought his axe down behind stanfords leg under the axe head. Then he yanked hard.

Stanford got yanked off his feet and fell on his back. He barely managed to get his shield in front of his face before the axe came down again. The force punched through the hard iron wood and Stanfords jaw was hit by the metal head and splinters, as he screamed he put all his weight into his axe, qnd brought i wildly into where he thought the man's side was.

The axe hit, but the force had not been nearly enough to bring damage through the armor. The man let go of his own axe still embedded into Stanford's Jaw, and grabbed stanfords own axe, and ripped it from his hands. Then something hard punched straight down into his chest.

The battle was done. Not quite as rousing a success as the battles the crannogmen had fought but still. It was a victory.

Somewhere around 380 of my elites had died or taken devastating injuries taking this position. As i walked up through the battlefield, the sound of dying men being silenced either by a knife across the throat, or just dying on their own filled my ears.

Harren walked with a young man across his shoulder, the man's left arm being a hastily bandaged stump. I recognized the black bear of mormont on the boy's chest.

Around 300 of the enemy force had escaped across the bridge. Though i rather doubted they would trouble me much further on the field of battle.

On the plus side there had been plenty of food and a decent amount of drinks in the enemy camp. Which i planned to share with my troops today in celebration of the victory.

Had to keep morale high. In any case i was going to inspect the bridge,and make sure i wouldn't have trouble getting my army across.

As i walked a few highlords tailed along. It was pretty easy to see who had lost family or friends, and those who had not. The ones who had weren't the ones who came to bother me for one.

"My Magnar" Lord Dustin opened up. "I'm glad to see you made it unharmed." I hadn't been bloody likely to be harmed at all. I wore a surcoat of mail, and over it laminar armor i had designed for this campaign. I didn't have many sets, but those i did were probably the best anti arrow armors on the continent. A shame i would be replacing them with even better armor for the actual standing army.

On my head i had worn what i internally dubbed a templar helmet. A full great helm, covering my entire head. I had simply called it a full helm.

"Aye, i'm unharmed. All the highlords are." which was true. None of my actual lords had died in this battle thankfully. Though many had lost family members. Several of my clan leaders having lost sons, brothers and nephews to arrows.

As we walked past, the corpses were being looted for everything. Mail, helmets weapons, coin and other valuables. Undamaged leather boots apparently being a favorite.

As we reached the end of the bridge and i walked down a smaller ridge along the side, Dusin continued "So i hear we're celebrating the victory with a feast tonight?".

"Aye" I simply replied. I considered for a moment whether i would explain my thoughts on the matter, but i decided i might as well. Hopefully i could have him go and chat with the other lords and not have to repeat myself too many times.

"Royce is around half a weeks march away from here. There is no way he could ever reach us before we cross. And we are in any case going to wait a day or two here to let him catch up. The entire point of this is to have him follow us across after all."

Well the point was to force a big decisive battle. Which would only happen once i had gotten my army across and marched on the dreadfort.

"Then we destroy the bridge once he's across right?" I rolled my eyes, which he couldn't see anyway. As if we hadn't talked about the future strategy last night in the war tent.

"Yes, then we blow up the bridge so Royce has nowhere to run once he's across." I looked down at the base of the bridge. Yes, the base was covered in black stone, perfect and easy to hide bombs in.

Just Place those and have an archer in the mountain ridges along the sides of the river, have them hide and light it aflame with fire arrow once they were across.

Then Royce would have nowhere to run.

Nowhere… To… Run…

Another idea struck me. A much simpler and more surefire idea. Yes, i could do a few changes and this vague plan would turn into a completely sure victory.

All it would require was a bit of terrible maneuvering on my part.

Jul 7, 2019

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#246

Farmer first, now king to be.

Starting as an eagle first, now wolf king strong in a pack of three.

Kill the flayed man, make him burn.

Winters Crown against bloody Arms, make the trees learn who you are.

Turn the snows to fields of grain, make them all love your name.

Builder's son, farmer's boy, raise the Banner, make a North without fractions, kill the hunger, help the needy, teach your children to hate and kill the greedy.

Winter is coming, snow turns to spring, rains turns to summer, bright days to autumn, the cycle repeats.

Never forgot, blue eyes will return. The dead will rise and your dragons must burn.

Across the water a new start, war drums finally silencing in your heart, but do not forget, that dragons are power made flesh.

They will make your kingdom ashes. Kill them all or the West will burn, from North to South it makes no matter.

The sunset will still rise on all the land, and all will see the fire, the glory, the Dragons flight.

You must resist and bite.

Blue eyes or fire it makes no matter.

Winter Will Come.

-A Runestone found on a small island in the shivering sea.

"This runestone is not alone on this small barren rock. There are 22 in all. Most written in separate tongues. 6 are written in the old runic Written form of the first men, 4 in our own Andal togue, one in what i recognize as the tongue of valyria. The rest… I do not know.

I will make a record of all of them at this time, as i have no plans of ever returning here. The place is… Wrong. It's high day, yet no warmth is here despite the beating sun. The shadows are not right. When you look at them right on, they seem fine, but as you see them in the corner of your eye… They Move.

We came upon this island by accident on our explorative trip to the region, the island is on the map we bought from the Hairy men of Ibb, but there is no special weight given to it, other than a dot of black ink.

The sight however made me decide to stop and explore it. Jutting from the water, the island looks as if it was carved through the same technique as Storm's End. Rather than a fortress however, it's simple a small mountain with completely smooth sides, and a perfectly carved staircase carved into the side.

At the top, there was a small platou with…. Runestones crowning them. The writing on each has differently written languages as i've already said. All carved into the… Stone.

Stone. As if there ever was stone which looked like that. Like the mountain itself the runestones are carved more smoothly than anything else i've seen in my life. However, the mountain is clearly just the natural stone of this rock, carved in an inhumanly masterfull way. The stones…

They are blood red, with a texture like that of a man whose flesh has been skinned from Him. It is a truly unsettling sight. As i let my hand go over one of them i fully expected the feeling of touching blood. However it is smooth. Inhumanly so.

The smell however… it smells like blood alright. No it smells like a cadaver which was left to rot. But nothing like that could be found here. Only a barren smooth platou with red runestones being the only thing which stood out.

It wasn't before i came up here that i realised something which should have been obvious just seeing it. There were no birds here. Not seagulls nesting, or even the dead skeletons of the occasional birds, all of which i had seen in great numbers on even the smallest island i had seen before in this sea.

I now make a record of these stones, and i'll leave it to scholars back home to decipher it's meaning. As i was having the record written down, i began to notice that the stone was aligned in a strange pattern. Like a spiral or a whirlpool.

As i finally finished my last record, i could swear i had begin to… Hear things. Not voices, something else.

As i hurried down the stair back the rowboat which would take me to my ship i could swear i began to hear a cold biting laughter. It followed me as we finally began to embark away from this cursed place. My men were uneasy, but they swore to me that they could not hear the voice. By god, i believe them.

I will never return to this place. Once was enough for me.

Captain Balon of the ship "The Iron Star".

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Jul 20, 2019

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#251

Whoreson born, now King of Rivers.

From Godlo White, to Golden Scales, blue on white, a shield for Rivers, Men, Women, Children as well as trouts. The Red Horse and Ravens Black, joined as one through Love, forbidden, unwanted, Unheeded. A King of Justice from them was Seeded.

Justice Runs in crimson River, those drowned in Salt must see the Light, the Star, the Seven Shining Bright. The Drowned Lord Must Burn in his Watery Hall.

Protect The Children, make them Learn, The Scales Of Justice Brightly Burn.

United are the rivers, if you fall, they shall splinter, Nevermore the Land be Whole.

Make them love you, the Rule of Many, Byzantium of Rivers, Hall of Justice, Laws of Men, Hard and fast, but also mercy to The Needy, the Broken, The Children. Protect the Children, they are the Future.

Eagle white on purple banner, let them eastwards fly forevermore, and they shall follow, through the Fires and the Flames they will Carry On.

Red Trout east and Silver Trout West. Marry one and Sire countless Children. Make the other Battalion Lord, loyal, Strong and Ever Loyal, he will make Iron Star Shine Bright.

The Doom will Come to Dragonlords, peace will fall. Do not be deceived. Dragonfire Burns Forevermore, the fire will consume the Land, Many Nations Will Unite, or they will burn Together Far and Bright.

Call to Arms, Banners Fly in the Wind. Scales, Wolf, Lion, Falcon, Stag, Gate, Hand and Bizarre Amalgam Bound by Silver chains.

Under the rising Westward Sun, they Will Unite. At The Black Water River, they Will Stand as one, or Burn Alone.

Unite them. Defeat the Fire, Turn the Tide.

Balance the scales.

\- A record of the Runestone Designated as Stone 4. Record made from Bloodstone Island.

Last edited: Jul 22, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks Chapter 12, The Final Battle - Parlay New

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#257

The Final Battle. Prologue.

The wind was blowing at their backs as they made their trek across between the two Armies, the last Parlay before the battle took place.

He felt out of place here, with the other Lords, Dustin, Woodfoot, Kraken, Ryswell. All the Great Lords of the Kingdom, except for Lord Umber, who had been Killed.

Howland had gone North to meet the King's summons for honor and maybe make some good trade deals with the more inland Lords. Now… Now the King had promised to restore the Old trade and restore his house to their ancient glory.

It had been above his wildest dreams.

And at the front of their group, and the only one who was ahorse, the man he cpuld thank for his fortunes rising, their King, Brandon Stark.

The King did not look like a northman, dressed as he was, but he did look Regal as the Mountains did.

He was wearing that new form of Armor he had designed himself, the one his own Elites were wearing. Hundreds of small, rectangular steel plates with small holes, which had been bound together by thin straps of cloth, overlapping each other. The overall image he had in his head, was that the king looked like a steel lobster.

The armor covered his chest and the upper arms, and below the belt he had one set of plates on both his sides which in his own opinion looked like a woman's skirt.

Not that Howland Fenn was stupid enough to say that thought out Loud. He had been promised a lot of very good things by the king, invited to this final Parlay at his Kings side as an honor. He was not about to endanger that comparing the King to a deviant who wore the clothes of women.

The plates did not cover most of his arms, but under the plates the King wore Good Chainmail of shining steel. On his wrists and lower legs he wore another form of armor, longer plates than the main ones, which had also been connected by pieces of cloth.

The only true northman thing about him was his face, which had the standard true northern, stark look, his piercing grey eyes, and the Crown of Winter which adorned his head. When in combat the king would use the new form of helmet he had designed, but this was a parley, not battle.

What he wore could have looked like armor which had been slapped together with no rhyme or reason, but it did not. Even he could tell this was a new style of armor, an evolution of the mail that had been the pinnacle of armor ever since iron replaced bronze.

The fact that the King had apparently developed this armor in less than a year if the rumors could be believed was the baffling part. The king had done a lot of that. Invent wonders, then implemented them with absolutely nothing going amiss. The dragon powder weapons was the most visible and noticeable, but it hardly ended there.

Heelbreakers, this new form of armor, and the weapon a number of the Stark men had begun using, what the King Called a hunting bow. It was shaped like a cross, and It allowed the archer to nock an arrow and then hold it at ready while not using any force himself. According to the king, while it was much slower in regards to how how fast it could fire in comparison to a standard bow, but the short arrows it could fire, had MUCH more power than the regular bows.

Why he had dubbed these Hunting bows, he was not quite sure. Unless the King planned to use them to hunt mammoths and giants, he could not imagine any beasts that would require these powerful weapons of war to hunt.

He had also been developing a new form of arrows, which had not been ready before they marched to fight the battle at the Dawn Road, but he now had around 400 arrows with him for this battle. Arrows which had been made to punch through armor if the Kings promises were true.

Not that he doubted they were. The Wonders his king had produced, went above all he could have imagined. And according to His Magnar, he wasn't close to done!

While drinking and eating together, the King had told him, that once this war was over, he had many more inventions he planned to implement.

By the gods, he wondered how the North Would look in a decade. Well, there was one thing he knew for sure.

There would only be one Kingdom in the North.

This final meeting was the Red Kings Final chance to bend the knee peacefully.

That was not going to happen, but the King had said, that he was willing to accept him, his allegiance, and his entire kingdom as Blood price for the Butchery at the Wolf's den.

IF he bent the knee today. If not….

Finally, halfway between the two armies in the no man's land between the Stark Lines and the first set if Bolton Stakes, the two parties approached each other.

Both around 20 men all in all, with only one man from each ahorse. In the Bolton Group was the great houses of the east, most important and powerful was Hornwood and Frost, below them houses such as overton, Whitehill and the Flints of Widow's watch.

The two monarchs, as was tradition was above the rest in parley, literally as well as figureably.

King Brandon was seated on a brown, white spotted mare, while his opposite was astride a giant black stallion. From where he was standing, he could see the horse was not gelded.

Why you would wish to geld horses, when they were such a valuable resource he did not understand, but then again. There were no horses in the neck, so he would admit he knew literally nothing about them other than that Andals used them for War, and the rest used them for messengers or quick travel.

The Red King was in some ways a dissapointment. And in other ways he was the very image of the nightmare figure that the Boltons were in the dreams of all the north.

The King's Face was about as boring as he could possibly have imagined it. Slightly pudgy and with wrinkles which revealed the beginning of an advanced age, he looked like how Howland imagined Lord Kraken would look in maybe 10 years.

The only thing about his physical appearance that lived up to all the tales he Had heard of the cruelty and depravity of the Boltons, was his eyes. Cold and blue like the eyes of death, they made Howland shudder Just looking at them. And when the king's eyes looked at him, while taking stock of the Wolf Flock, he felt his Spine go Cold with Biting fear.

There was neither mercy, nor warmth in those eyes.

His clothing however was about what he had expected it to be. He wore Iron mail with a pink surcoat over it, with the hideous flayed man on it. His hands were covered by thick leather gloves, and his feet boots of black leather. On his head was a crown of a red metal, covered by an ingrained pattern which looked like Flesh without Skin.

By far the most striking thing he wore though was his cloak. It was the most macabre, hideous and disgusting thing Howland had ever seen in his dreams. The cloak was made of what could only be the skin of Men. And not just one man either, the thing was a criss cross of skins of different tones and shades. It had been made by the skin of many, not one.

And then there was his standard bearer. Whereas King Brandon's weapon Carrier carried with him the Kings own Direwolf flab, the Red King's second was carrying the skin of a large, tall man, hanging from a tall wide pole and cross.

The Size of Him!

Howland was admittingly from the Neck, where men were short, but even to him, the remains of this man made him seem a giant, even compared to the other Northern Lord.

It was on the banner their King had been looking as the Bolton delegation walked up to the meeting spot.

Brandon had a disgusted, but calm Face. No trace of fear or nervousness washed over his visage.

The rest of the party was a gathering of scowls and angry pissed off faces. Except the Mountain Lords, many of them wore smiles that could only be described as wolf like.

Then the group finally stopped, right in front of the Stark group, and a silence arode, as both kings took a stock of the other.

Bolton had a calm, self assured smile, which did not reach his eyes. Starks disgusted look had melted away for a stony mask, which hid any feelings the Monarch might have.

Finally, the silence was broken by Lord Ryswell, who clearly did not seem to grasp the magnitude of the meeting.

"Well? Are we gonna fucking chat or are you two gonna stare at each other for the rest of the day?"

The spell of silence was broken, and the rest on both sides began muttering amongst each, around their king's. He heard Dustin mutter under his breath that this was not the time to act like an arse.

The King however, did not seem to be angry at him. Instead, he raised his hand for silence, and the pack on his side stopped talking.

"Aye, lets get this over with. Bolton!" With that last Words he pointed at the red King.

"Stark." he replied while wearing his cocky grin.

"Is there any point to this parlay? I cannot imagine that you actually have a real genuine proposal for me. Or did you wish to challenge me to single combat?"

King Stark glared at him, then replied.

"Aye, i have a peace proposal for you."

Then, before he managed to reply he continued.

"You have done House Stark, and the Kingdom of Winter grievous harm, when you, unprovoked and with No justification. Attacked, took and burned the Wolf's den, and massacred my Kin there last Fall."

"For this Crime, Honor demands that i avenge my kin and pay for their lives with Your Blood. However, i am willing to let you pay a blood price, and by doing so save your Life."

The Red King blinked at that and honestly looked completely surprised.

So did the rest of the Blood Lords. The wolves however, did not react. The king had filled everyone in on the his plans both for the parley and the upcoming battle, and though some had grumbled and shouted, it had been accepted that the king would give Redarm one chance to surrender, and give them what they wanted.

A large part of that acceptance was due to no one being foolish enough to think he would accept the price the king would demand. But giving an offer of surrender was the honorable thing to do after all.

"Blood price." The Redarm said flatly.

"Even if i Had attacked the Wolf's Den unprovoked, and not as retribution for the lords of the den stealing from my lands, what Blood Price could you possibly demand instead of my blood?"

"I made a cloak out of your kin at the Den." He motioned to his cloak, and then to his "banner" as he continued.

"And your uncle makes quite the lovely banner i have to say." He continued mockingingly.

"But as repayment for that, you're willing to settle for as payment in exchange for peace." He chuckled.

"So, let us hear it. What is the price you feel your Family's blood is worth?"

The king let him chuckle until he was done, before he spoke again.

"Your crown and your kingdom. If you yield your entire Kingdom to me, and swear me fealty, i will allow you and your family's heads stay attached to your bodies. The land which was unjustly taken from my lords after the last war will be returned to them, but other than that i will let your lord's lands remain as they are."

"You will renounce your title as king, but i will allow you, and your heirs, to retain the rule and overlordship of the Lands of the Dreadfort. Your daughter will be engaged to my brother, and you will surrender the skins of my fellow Starks and my uncle for them to be burned."

Then the King's tone turned as cold as any winter Howland had ever lived through.

"If you refuse, i will Kill you, your fine lords here, all your soldiers, smallfolk and Elites alike. No quarter will be given, and no ransoms will be offered. After crushing you, i will then take my army to the Dreadfort and rip it asunder. Those are my terms."

There was a moment of silence as everyone from the bolton party just stared at the King in shock, amusement, bafflement and annoyances. Then they all burst out into laughter. Even Red Arm himself joined in on that. In reply the Wolves growled and the gnashing of teeth took place.

The King however showed no signs of being annoyed, angry, or feeling humiliated. He instead sat on his horse and looked at his nemesis with a stone face.

Finally Red Arm regained his composure, and looked at the King Brandon with a look of amusement and scorn.

"You have a rather simple view of humor i have to say Stark."

Then in one quick moment, his face shifted to a mask of cold chill.

"But let us talk reality here Stark."

He motioned to behind him towards his lines.

"I have dug 7 layers of trenches, all filled with stakes. Behind the first of them my archers stand ready, and when your men march forward, they will riddle them with arrows. And when your…. Thunderstones…."

He sneered the last word in disgust.

"Are thrown, my archers will already have pulled back to the next trench and will riddle your men again. And again. And again."

"And if by some miracle you do manage to reach the top before your Rabble Breaks, we will simply cross the river and hold it against you. You have my word, that you Will Not Cross that bridge."

A small silence followed as he just looked King Brandon in the Eye, before he continued.

"You had the chance to cross after your first battle here. And like the unseasoned Boy you are, you failed to make use of that victory, instead chasing after my Host like a dog after a stick. Now here i am, with the men who survived the last battle, and all the knowledge i need about your stones to make sure you they will not grant you victory again."

He snorted.

"I will not give up to your empty words. You cannot beat us by arms so you instead try to cover up your blunders by threats. So Boy. Here are my terms. Leave my lands, or die here. Death will be the only thing you will find here today, i promise you that."

As he talked, his voice grew louder and louder as he went.

"I will not surrender anything to Empty Boasting! Not the Dawnforest, not the river and sure as the Others not my Bloody Crown!"

To that the king Merely raised one eyebrow.

"It is indeed a bloody crown. I think i'll have it melted down to a set of sharp knives. For dining. In any case, i'll give you this last warning. If you do not yield now, i will not accept a surrender later. Consider it carefully Royce. Your life will depend on your answer. "

The red King's response was to snort, and turn his horse. And begin moving back to his lines. With some last looks back of disgust, his Lords began to follow him back.

The King made no immediate move, but instead sighed.

"Disappointing. But not unexpected."

Then he also turned his horse and began to trot back to their lines. The Wolf Lords followed.

Lord dustin picked up his pace and moved up besides the King.

"You really hoped he would yield our Magnar?"

He really did have a knack for asking stupid questions with obvious answers this Lord of Barrowton. As if the Kings disappointed frown hadn't already made it clear to all that he had hoped for a yield.

"If hadn't wanted him to surrender and kneel, i wouldn't have offered him the choice. I would just have put the plan into motion and be done with it."

"Pardon our Magnar." Lord Kraken piped in.

"But if you wanted him to surrender, why not just tell him how bad his situation is? Surely he would have knelt if he knew how fucked he is now."

The King looked at the Ironman with a glance before answering.

"I considered it. But doing so seemed like it could have driven him to desperate measures. Like ignoring the guest right of parlay and tried to take me out then and there."

At that Lord Kraken looked at his in complete shock. So did many other Lords. Breaking Guest Right was…. Unholy, a sin beyond any other. The fact that the king spoke of Royce as if him considering doing so was natural seemed… Wrong. Like he didn't even consider him a fellow human being. What sort of degenerative monster would disrespect guestright?

After that a long awkward silence followed until they finally reached their own lines.

The site of the Coming battle was the same valley that their army had fought to take the bridge around a week back. Only with some changes to the scenery.

This time the Red kings entire Army was camped up by the bridge, and instead of only one ditch, he, as he had said, had dug up seven long ditch lines filled with stakes. After their army had come each ditch the Red Host could simply pull back, and instead hide behind the next ditch and fire from there.

The king had called it defence in depth. He had never heard the term before the king spoke of it, but it did indeed make their previous strategy impossible. For one they simply didn't have enough shield breakers to punch through all 7 lines.

And even if they had, the red king had parked his baggage train across the bridge. They could easily retreat and pull back there, making their army bleed all the way.

Lucky then that the king had no plans of charging.

After winning the last battle, the king had made some preparations, before they had marched south again. The red king had predictably learned that his bridge was completely unguarded, and had marched here as quickly as his army could have done so.

Right to their doom.

As they reached their lines, the king went to his horn carrier, while Howland went up east, to take his place of command of the archers on the ridge of the mountain.

As he was walking, he heard the sound of what he could only think was an oliphant horn blowing, with a sound that carried for leagues. Echoing in the mountain many times far and wide.

As the sound finally gave way and only the echoes dimmed through the hills and mountain sides, Lord Blackmyre sighed.

"And so it begins."

"No." Howland instead replied cheerfully.

"Now it ends."

The sound of the Kings Mammoth Horn erupted across the small mountain top to the west.

He had expected it, been told that it would most assuredly blow and that when it did he would need to get his ass moving. Both for his duty and for his life.

He quickly uncovered the brazier he had carried here, and pulled out the bottle the king had given him. It seemed strange that any liquid would burn, but this strange stuff the king had supplied him with burned very well actually.

He quickly began to pour it over the brazier and the small container he would dip his arrows in.

Then he used the fire making equipment the king had made for him. He had used it many times to prepare for this moment, but now that it actually came, his hands shook so hard he had to repeat it half a dozens tries before he finally got it alight.

The brazier burned. Now to get to his actual job. He quickly pulled an arrow up which had a clothpiece on the tip, dipped the cloth in the burnable liquid and then into the fire. The cloth was set alight and began to burn instantly.

Then he rose up and went to the edge of ridge he was on. He was in an incredibly dangerous spot now, for several reasons. The first was that he was below the bridge in height and now that he had lit a fire, anyone on said bridge would be able to easily spot said fire.

His little camp(at least that was what he had called it in his head. In reality it was a couple of blankets, a bag of salted dried meat, waterskins and a chamberpot to shit in. He had emptied that at night) was on the western side of the deep ravine which was bridged by the Bridge of Doom(cheery names the boltons had for things.), up on a small ridge with only an outcropping of rock and grey clothing, cloak and hood to prevent him from being spotted by the flayed men crossing the river. The cliffs was almost impassable, but as an experienced mountain climber and archer, he had volunteered for this vital task.

So he had crossed the steep cliffs with a bow, and four separate bags to his belt. It had been quite the journey, and he had almost fallen several times.

When the king had seen he had made it, the army had begun its march away, leaving him here alone under the sky.

It had been a lonely week, doing nothing but sitting around and dreading when the Bolton army would come, and things would actually become dangerous. Then the actual army had arrived, and he had been tense for days and in a constant state of paranoia. Would the Flayed men spot him? Would a hail of arrows begin to fall on his position, would they arch such that they hit him?

The answer was no to all the questions.

Finally, after several days living in fear for a possible death, he had finally heard it. The sound of the mammoth horn. The signal that the King had imparted on him to be prepared. For when the second horn blow came, he had to do his duty, and make the Red King Fall.

The hours after it, he had been tense, like a bowstring held for hours and hours until the sign finally came.

Now was the hour for glory.

For his Lord, for Honor and for the King and the keep he had promised him.

His Children Would be Elites, the crop of the North. Mayhaps not Lords, but they would be nobility, and that was good enough for him.

As he stood on the edge he aimed, and took sight. His hand shook, knowing the other danger, the danger the King had imparted on him. Finally it steadied somewhat, and with the horn blows still echoing in his air, he took his final aim, and let loose.

Then he threw himself on the ground.

"KRAAAKKKAHHRRRR"

The SOUND was devastating. His ears hurt like a stuck pig, and the only thing he could hear was a ringing. Then his hearing returned in a burst and even more pain as he clutched his ears.

He heard screams, falling rubble. He turned around to look at his handiwork.

The bridge had completely collapsed. The great pillar of stones that had been laid to keep it up had been blown to pieces, and with it, the entire bridge had completely collapsed.

He had hit the dragon powder encrusted base of the pillar with his first shot thank the gods.

As he looked on the mess, still clutching his ears for the pain, he suddenly had a thought for his family name and sigil.

Eddard Brokenbridge, that's what he would be called. And a broken bridge and a broken crown above it would be his sigil.

The great boom, signaled to me that the plan had now reached it's final stage. I didn't need to see the handiwork of the bomb to know that the bridge was gone. I had buried enough bombs in the stones around the pillar to do the job 5 times over.

If it had gone off, the bridge was now rubble.

Which meant that Royce had now fallen completely into my trap. As expected he had seized on my clumsy maneuvering down south to chase him again and retake the bridge. And now was in a no win scenario.

He couldn't retreat across the bridge, all his supplies was on the other side so he couldn't handle a siege for long, and my army had been spread around the entire walley in a long line of wood and steel. Behind them was archers ready to fire against any advancing foe. Up on a ridge along the cliffs i had stationed all the crossbowmen i had.

Bolton was fucked. He had to abandon his fortified position and either fight a pitched battle where i could make full use of my numbers, or an attempted breakout through my wastly numerically superior lines.

Either way, the advantage was mine. Still. It would be a bloody Battle. The Bolton host would be fighting to the last man, and no quarters would be given. Which meant an entire day of fighting and bloodbaths.

Still i was not worried.

Blood and steel won the North.

And the Starks had the most of Both.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Aug 3, 2019

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Kingofwinter

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Aug 6, 2019

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#270

Royce unsurprisingly sent forth his archers first to soften any counterattack i might make before he managed to form his formations after getting his entire army over the final trench.

If i had cavalry of any decent numbers this would have been a great point to send them foreward to kill as many archers as possible and wreak havoc in the Bolton lines. My total number of men mounted warriors though was 213 total. I was not going to risk them on a charge that might get all of them wiped out.

Not that i had any plans of stopping the formation forming anyway.

I had spent a lot of time to set up my lines, made sure all of them were well fed, well organized and had slept in today. I had no plans to abandon my position for anything before the two armies clashed. So i let Royce form up his lines maybe 800 meters away.

As we watched, the only Question left was whether Royce meant to make this a battle or a breakout. If he wanted to make it a battle, i had to be a bit more proactive, and make use of my army's numerical superiority.

If it was a breakout, i just needed to have my men hold and throw the enemy back. Much simpler.

My original plan had been to blow up as large a part of the army as possible as they crossed the bridge eastwards, tgen force a battle on the other side. However that could lead to a large number of men escaping the field, forming outlaw bands, or an actual rebellion against my rule later. The goal of this battle was to kill as large a part of the enemy army as humanly possible.

And as such this new plan had been formed. Royce and his army was trapped on this side of the River. Either they managed to break through, beat me in a pitched battle, or they all died to a man. That last one being the most likely.

It was cold, brutal Logic, but it was sound. The less Bolton men of fighting age in the eastern lands, the better and easier my life would become.

Why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones?

Varys words came unbidden and unwanted to my mind as i looked out over the bolton men, streaming across the last trench like a slowly collapsing dike against the sea.

These men… The smallfolk hadn't done me any harm. They didn't deserve this oblivion i was planning on giving them. They were levied farmers no different than my own foot.

When it came down to it, these men's only crime was being born in the lands of Flayed Men, and as Jorah mormont would have put it, they cared little for our Highlords Game of Thrones so long as they were left in peace.

I had of course known from the start when i had gotten here and accepted my role, that i lived in a feudal society, where concepts like true nationhood was only to be found in the way that all men followed the same King.

Yet somehow it hadn't really struck me so hard in the face before now. The common folk on both sides were not here because they loved their homeland or their lords. They respected the house of Stark, due to it's unflinching personal sense of Justice and our keeping the peace at the end if of a steel Sword. That was my only Claim to true Kingship.

Whether the Bolton common man respected their own King i did not know. A Calm Land a Calm People. That was how roose had described it. Was the Dreadforts Lands generally peaceful? While i had no doubts about redarms brutality and sadism, i wondered if the boltons infamous cruelty extend only to their enemies? If so they wouldn't have been the only monarch to rule his people through butchering his enemies horribly.

All these thoughts just reinforced my old thoughts on the Standing Army i was planning to build. It couldn't just be a paid force. I needed to make it an ideological institution. A place where all the North would flow together, and become something new, something united.

The feudal Era had to come to an end. I couldn't just destroy like all other conquerors. I had to actually make the eastern lands follow where i lead them. That meant both accepting the Men of the Dreadfort into the Fold, but also to extend my developments to their land as well.

I would remake the barren empty plains of the north i to the biggest fields of grain this continent had ever seen. And i would do it everywhere, from skagos to bear island, from cape Kraken to the bay of seals, from Winterfell to the dreadfort.

If i couldnt make my conquest legitimate through anything but the sword, i would need to make the people love me for giving them unmatched prosperity if nothing else

I had really wanted that surrender, i realised. Not just because it would have made my conquest easier, but also because i had genuinely wanted to end this whole affair as bloodlessly as possible. I would have been willing to let Bolton live if it had meant avoiding the bad blood which would be shed today. Many families would lose their sons today, many brothers would not come home. Widows and daughters would cry and curse the name of Stark.

Yet there was no turning back now. My commanders had two set of possible battleplans, which they would engage depending on what Bolton did now. It was too late to change those plans now.

"Boar Formations." Harren said suddenly pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I said having been to focused on my own thoughts to really focus on trying ro make sense of the formations Bolton was making.

"They're Forming up for Boar Formation, Four Columns." He pointed to the the four forming groups of pretty large size, each growing larger and larger as more men streamed across the trench.

There were still a massive number before they were done, but the form of the army formations was beginning to form into disternable forms.

Archers on the side, and…. Infantry forming… a wedge? Yes a wedge. That meant….

"So breakout then." i said confidently desperately hoping i hadn't just made myself look like a bloody moron in front of Harren and the Lords still around me.

"Aye." Lady Woodfoot retorted. "He's forming four Boar's heads too. That's risky but it dampens the formation's biggest weakness of us just charging in at the flanks. Now there are four places in the army that will be hit, not just one. So we need to deal with each of them separately before that part of the army can move on and flank the next one in line."

"If it comes to that" Replied… Lady Mormont, whom i only recognized from her sigil, though i shouldn't be surprised i supposed. Around me i had the lords of my own direct lands and the ones from Bear island.

"The Boars Head is not good for Long Engagements. If they don't quickly break through, they'll falter and break. All we'll need to do is hold, and the entire formation will fail."

Some lords murmured in agreement, though i saw others scowl at both the Ladies, clearly not liking the idea of having Women explain battle tactics to them.

Well, i didn't need more explanation. I had only waited until we knew what Royce planned to do before i made my next move.

I nodded to my Hornblower. "Two Horn Blasts then."

That was the signal for what set of strategy we would be using. One for a pitched battle, two for a breakout.

As the two consecutive horn blasts(this time from a regular ox horn.) rang out, i motioned to my Weapon Carrier Lucifer Cassel, who obediently came up with my sword and the other item he had at hand.

As my mittenclad hand gripped around Ice's Hilt, and pulled it from it's Stone scabbard, i steeled myself for the part of the battle i had dreaded most, though i intellectually knew it was the least dangerous and repulsive part of this day.

I couldnt help it. I had hated giving speeches in front of other people all my life. It was one thing to do it to a few dozens, under my own roof. Something quite different to do it to hundreds upon hundreds of people who all had the idea in their head of me as the infallible young, energetic King.

I grabbed my instrument for the part in my other hand, and began to stride forward.

Well, it was time to put on a show.

Lyanna was nervous. She couldn't Help it. It didn't really make any sense to be honest. She had faced large numbers of foes before with no fear or hesitation, generally either on equal footing or inferior in number. Now the Host she was part of outnumbered the enemy almost two to one.

Yet she was still nervous. She refused to call it fear, but she felt like she needed to get this over with, instead of just all this damned waiting and standing around.

The more and more they waited, the more anxious she got, and the more she really wanted to actually fight.

To her side her brother Brandon stood, a bit shaking, but otherwise with no sign on his calm face he dreaded this upcomming battle.

As she looked over the field, she saw the Flayed Men rearrange themselves into formation. It was a strange thing, but the thing about the sight that made her feel the most unwell was not the enemy in the thousands, dressed in mail and armed with iron. It was the clothing so many of them wore.

Or rather it's color.

Lyanna had never seen so much pink in her life. It was nauseating, seeing men wear it, and not in small numbers either.

Pink, the color of death, flayed skin and misery. The last time she had seen it, had been when an argument in the village had gotten so out of hand that two men had challenged other to a duel under master mormonts eyes. She had allowed it, and brought out the pink standard. The banner which meant that it would be a duel to the death.

It was not a color you brought out unless death was imminent, or you REALLY wished someone the worst of times.

Yet here, the bolton forces were dressed in this most hideous of all colors. It made her sick to consider what sort of depraved monsters they must be, bloodthirsty savages to wear this color for war.

She and Brandon had taken their place alongside their Master, Sansa Mormont, in the middle section of the army.

To their right were the King's own Men, the men of Winterfell, dressed in their white and with the Direwolf on their chests and shields.

Direwolves.

Lyanna had heard of the direwolves of course. All Children in the North grew up on tales of the Kings of the Northern Wilderness.

But living on bear island, the only place in the north(outside maybe the island of Cannibals.) where the Beast was extinct, having been wiped out long ago.

Then, it had been her first time seeing the beasts on her journey to the capital. And what beasts they were. Almost as big as a horse the beast had been, as it had stood there on the ridge and looked down on them, with gleaming blue eyes.

Then it had simply left, as if striking the fear of death into them had been it's only purpose there.

If so, it had worked. The animal which the Starks took their sigil from wad the most terrifying creature Lyanna had ever seen. Stronger than regular wolves, faster and smarter than the bear. There were no predators in the north which could match the Direwolf.

As she looked at the Men of winterfell, she picked up on a man walking through the lines. She first assumed it was just another soldier, but then her breath froze as she saw the crown upon his head.

It was the King.

The Magnar of Winterfell was dressed in the most impressive armor she had ever seen.

It was all Shining steel, as the gleaming metal proved. No iron she had ever seen had come even close to that gleaming color. After the metal, the first thing she noticed was the new form of armor he wore.

The king had apparently designed this armor himself if the tales were to be believed. It was hardly the only thing the Wolf King had made, but in her opinion, it was the most beautiful of his creations.

Each of the hundreds of plates gleamed in the sun like the ice covered coast in early spring.

Under his plate, he wore mail, covering the part of his body the Plates did not. In his hand he held Ice, the legendary Blade of Legend which the savior of the North, Brandon the Breaker had taken by the Night's King after the king of the wall's defeat.

It was a blade unlike any she had ever seen. Made of transparent blue Ice, the blade was an eternal reminder for all who saw it, of what enemy lurked beyond the Wall.

She saw men shudder as the king passed right by them, in general them glaring at the sword in either irritation, anger, fear or awe. As the stories said, the blade emitted the cold of winter, even in the most hot of summers. And they were still in spring.

As the king passed through and in front of the line, she noticed that in his other hand the king carried a strange object.

She had never seen anything quite like it, but it looked like a metal plate with runes which had been twisted around so it formed a conical form, on the side a small shield handhold which the king had half his hand through. What he could possibly want this thing for she had no idea.

However, after passing in front of the line, the king didn't stop. He instead continued a bit, Lyanna hearing the worried murmuring on her sides as people noted with shock what the king was doing.

What WAS he doing?

Finally, a fair bit away from them the king finally stopped and turned back towards them.

Was he planning on making a speech before the battle? If so he was a bit bloody far away, given he would need to shout just to be heard by the men right in front of him.

The King lifted the strange metal piece in his hand to his lips.

"MEN OF THE NORTH!"

She startled in shock at the sheer volume of the king's voice. Loud, and booming and all reaching, she would have been shocked if the men on both flanks of the army didn't hear him.

"YOU HAVE COME TODAY FROM ALL CORNERS OF THIS KINGDOM. FROM BEAR ISLAND, THE BARROWLANDS, WINTERFELL, THE WOLFSWOOD, THE RILLS, CAPE KRAKEN, THE NECK AND THE MOUNTAINS."

The king then took a short breath, but he continued quickly in that booming Voice of his. As he continued, he motioned and pointed with Ice towards the other side of the field where the forces of The Boltons were still deploying.

"YOU HAVE COME TO FIGHT, TO STAND AGAINST THE MONSTER OF THE NORTH, TO ESTABLISH TRUE PEACE IN THIS LAND! THERE, OUR FOE STANDS AND READIES HIMSELF FOR BATTLE JUST AS WE HAVE."

"HIS NAME, IS ROYCE BOLTON, THE REDARM, THE LAST RED KING OF THE DREADFORT. HE GOT THAT NAME FOR HIS LOVE OF PLUNGING HIS ARM INTO THE GUTS OF HIS LIVING PRISONERS, AND RIPPING THEIR GUTS FROM THEIR STILL LIVING BODIES."

"BUT HE IS NOT UNIQUE NOR AN ABERRATION. YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO, THAT THE LINE OF BOLTON IS ONE OF DEPRAVITY AND CRUELTY UNLIKE ANY OUR BELOVED WESTEROS HAS EVER SEEN."

"UPON THEIR BANNER, IS A FLAYED MAN, A SYMBOL OF CRUELTY AND THE TERROR. IT IS A SYMBOL WHICH STRIKES TERROR INTO THE HEART OF YOUR CHILDREN, YOUR WIVES AND SISTERS. AS WELL IT SHOULD, FOR THE LINE OF BOLTON HAS SPREAD DESTRUCTION AND DEATH FOR OVER TWO THOUSAND YEARS ON THIS WORLD. OUR LAND HAS SUFFERED THEIR BLADES AND THEIR RAPINE WAYS FOR AS LONG AS OUR KINGDOM HAS BEEN."

"NO LINE IS MORE CRUEL THAN BOLTON, WHO WEARS THE FLAYED SKIN OF GOOD MEN AS A CAPE AGAINST THE WIND. NO LINE AS ACCURSED AS THE MEN WHO MAKE THEIR LORDS SIT ON THRONES OF THEIR SKINNED ANCESTORS."

"THIS DAY, IS A DAY OF DESTINY. FOR THIS DAY, WE END THIS LONG BATTLE MY FRIENDS. THE BATTLE THAT STARTED WITH BRANDON STARK THE THIRD AND JON BOLTON THE SECOND. TODAY IS WHERE IT ENDS."

"HOWEVER THIS IS NOT ONLY THE DAY WHEN THE LINE OF BOLTON IS BROKEN, FOREVERMORE. THIS IS ALSO A DAY WHERE WE MAKE THE FINAL STEP OF ANOTHER JOURNEY, WHICH OUR ANCESTORS HAVE FOUGHT AND BLEED FOR."

"THIS DAY, IS THE DAY WHEN THE AGE OF WARRING KINGDOMS IN OUR LAND ENDS. WHERE THE KINGDOM OF WINTER AND THE KINGDOM OF THE DREADFORT END."

"AFTER TODAY, THERE WILL BE ONLY ONE NATION HERE, THE KINGDOM OF THE NORTH, UNITED AND WHOLE AS IT WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO BE! SOUTH OF THE WALL AND NORTH OF THE NECK THERE WILL BE ONLY ONE KING IN THE LAND, THE KING IN THE NORTH, WHOS NAME BE STARK!"

"ONE LAND, ONE NATION, ONE KING BENEATH THE WOLF BANNER."

"YOUR CHILDREN WILL REMEMBER THIS DAY FOR YOUR PART IN VANQUISHING THE EVIL THAT WAS BOLTON FOREVERMORE AND AVENGING ALL THE INJUSTICE THEY HAVE SUFFERED UPON OUR LAND."

YOUR GRANDCHILDREN WILL REMEMBER THIS DAY AS THE DAY WHEN THEY COULD LIVE IN PEACE FROM THE EAST."

"AND YOUR LINE WILL REMEMBER THIS AS THE DAY WHEN THE NORTH BECAME WHOLE, WHEN WE UNITED BENEATH ONE BANNER AND STOOD AGAINST THE WORLD. NOT AS MEN OF BEAR ISLAND, NOR AS BARROWMEN, NOT AS MEN OF WINTERFELL, NOT AS WOODSMEN, NOT AS RILLSMEN, NOT AS MEN FROM CAPE KRAKEN, NOT AS CRANNOGMEN AND NOT AS MOUNTAIN MEN. BUT AS NORTHMEN!"

"YOU STAND AT THE TURNING POINT OF HISTORY. NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE, WHERE YOU'RE FROM, WHAT YOUR STATION IN LIFE IS, KNOW THIS. HISTORY WILL REMEMBER YOU. IF NOT BY NAME THEN BY DEEDS."

"THE AGE OF HEROES IS OVER. SOME SAY IT ENDED WITH THE ANDAL INVASIONS FROM THE EAST. SOME WITH THE WITH THE LINE OF HOUSE MUDD. YET OTHERS WILL SAY IT ENDED WITH THE SURRENDER OF THE STORMLANDS TO THE THE SEVEN. I KNOW NOT THE ANSWER OF WHEN IT ENDED."

"BUT I KNOW WHEN THE NEXT AGE STARTED. IT STARTED HERE, TODAY UPON THIS FIELD. A NEW ERA IS APPROACHING. AN AGE, OF PEACE AND STRENGTH AND UNITY. AN AGE OF FREEDOM AND JUSTICE FOR ALL. AN AGE OF TECHNOLOGY, WHERE STEEL IS PLENTIFUL AND COMMONPLACE FOR ALL AND THE HARVEST SO BOUNTIFUL IT MAKES FAMINE A THING OF THE PAST."

"AN AGE OF MARVELS, OF WONDER IS AT HAND."

"AND ALL WILL KNOW THAT 9000 NORTHMEN STOOD AGAINST THE BOLTON HORDE TO MAKE IT HAPPEN."

"AS FOR TACTICS, WHAT WILL HAPPEN I SIMPLE. BOLTON IS USING A BATTLE FORMATION CALLED THE BOARS HEAD. IT IS A FORMATION WHICH IS DESIGNED TO BREAK THROUGH LINES. HOWEVER, IT IS ALSO VERY RISKY, AS IF IT DOES NOT QUICKLY PUNCH THROUGH THE LINE, IT WILL BREAK QUICKLY AND BE SLAUGHTERED. YOUR JOB IN THIS BATTLE IS EASY."

"HOLD."

"WHEN THE CHARGE COMES, STAND YOUR GROUND, AND KNOW THAT WHEN THE CHARGE FALTERS YOU NEED ONLY TO PUSH BACK AND BATTER YOUR WAY TO VICTORY."

" THOSE OF YOU NOT ENGAGED WITH THE ENEMY WILL CHARGE THEIR FLANKS AND HIT THEM IN THE SIDE. SURROUND THEM AND CUT THEM DOWN TO THE LAST MAN."

"AS YOU FIGHT, REMEMBER THAT NO MAN WON A WAR, BY DYING FOR HIS COUNTRY. HE WON IT, BY MAKING SURE THE BASTARD ON THE OTHER SIDE DIED FOR HIS COUNTRY. MAKE THEM DIE FOR THEIR RED KING."

"FINALLY, I HAVE ONE PROMISE TO MAKE."

"I WILL LET YOU LOOT THE DEAD FLAYED MEN AS YOU WILL, NO QUARTER WILL BE SHOWED THIS FIGHT. NO MERCY FOR THE ENEMY. NO LORDS SPARED FOR RANSOM."

"HOWEVER, THERE IS ONE MAN I WANT CAPTURED ALIVE IF POSSIBLE. ROYCE BOLTON, THE REDARM HIMSELF. IF ANY OF YOU CAN BRING ME HIM, TO DO JUSTICE BY MY OWN HAND, ALIVE, I WILL GRANT THE LORDSHIP OF DAWNFOREST TO WHOMSOEVER THAT MIGHT BE."

"IF YOU CANNOT CAPTURE HIM ALIVE…"

"I WILL UNDERSTAND."

"FIGHT WELL, AND MAKE THEIR BLOOD FLOW COLD."

With that the king lowered the device from his mouth and began to trott back to the lines where the hole he had come through still was open.

No loud cheering followed the ending of his speech. Hell, the ending had been so abrupt that had Lyanna not seen him lower it and walk back to the lines she might have assumed there was more to come.

She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the king's speech.

On one hand she liked the part of unity and wiping out the Boltons. On the other, the part of the actual battle felt… Lackluster in her opinion. The part on the end was suprising, but she had other things to worry about than capturing the fucking Red King himself. Making sure she and her brother made it back home alive.

The speech had one noticeable effect though. The shaking and anxiety was gone. It was soon time to fight, and she was ready.

Now it was all up to the gods.

As i walked up to the back of the lines, i handed over the rune covered megaphone whose runes i had smeared in blood yesterday. It hadn't been that much just as much as i could possibly squeeze from a thumb prick. Still, it had actually worked. At least i thought it had.

I had no idea how powerful this megaphone was normally, but it seemed it had been more than powerful enough to carry my words to all my men.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. I wasnt exactly a wizard knowing what the fuck i was doing casting spells. Still. There was power in Kingsblood, and i was a King if nothing else. It never hurt to try.

As i handed the megaphone over to a random aide, Lucifer handed me my helmet. I was really just a templar knight styled helmet with an iron crown on the outside in a form similar to my Actual crown. Still, it felt good when i fastened the leather strap under my chin and felt the protective case of steel around my head.

After i had it fastened, Lucifer helped me equip and fasten my shield, the tried and true Ironwood heater shield.

Then as the young man grabbed and fastened his own shield, and then a mace with his other hand and followed after me, i began to walk back towards the front. Not in the first row, but the second. I wasn't stupid enough to be in the front, but i needed to be there for my men.

I had promised them the world. Now i just had to lead them through this battle and i would be able to deliver.

Ice emitted cold and the air was starting to get biting. The winds picked up east to west, blowing to my left.

It might not snow or rain, but it would be a cold bloody day.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Aug 6, 2019

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Threadmarks Final Battle - Battle Part 1 New

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Kingofwinter

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#278

The battle was about to begin.

As Beren was watching, the Bolton men came charging across the field. He wasn't straight in the path of the incoming hammerblow, but he would feel the force of the flank soon enough.

Gods those were a lot of men. He had seen a lot more men than he would have imagined he'd ever see over the course of this year, but it was one thing to feast and laugh and march and talk while surrounded by thousands. It was an entirely different story to have a thousand men come at you with the intent to kill.

At his left side his twin brothers Jon and Tom were Shivering. Stupid, foolish boys, they shouldn't be here. Thankfully they were not in the front. They were in the third line behind the shieldwall, in front of them, in the first line stood his other two brothers, Benjen and Brandon. Brandon on his knee holding his shield up from the ground with his brother right behind him, having locked his shield over his.

They were the ones who had shields, and weren't green boys, and as such they were in front. Beren had been annoyed when he had been told he wouldn't be in front with his brothers to hold the line. But his father had quickly shut him down on that. The two of them didn't have shields. They wouldn't be able to defend against arrows or a charge.

The old man, who like him wielded a two handed sword of fine bronze stood behind him and stared with a nervous look at the bolton host. Though in his case, he was looking more at the archers on the side readying to fire.

Beren ignored them and kept his eyes on the host of pink charging. The arrows began to fly but not at them. Instead towards the men to their sides, to keep them pinned when the foot clashed and prevent them just chasing and hitting them Bolton men on the sides. At least that's what father had said the reason were.

The host charged, and got closer and closer. It wouldn't be long now before they hit, like a tide of Blood.

The arrows began to fly overhead, both at his back and from the front.

Men fell in the pink horde, but the horde did not slow. Screams to his left rose into the air.

The horde charged on, screaming with a thousand voices, all for blood.

"CRASH!"

The lines meet in a cacophony of screams and shouting, wood on wood, men charging.

The line in front of him was forced back and to his surprise the force of the impact shoved him roughly backwards into the man behind.

The sounds of hundred Axes, and swords and maces rang through the air as he steadied himself back on balance.

Men screamed, blood flew and as suddenly as a cat pouncing on a mouse, a man in brown and chainmail was there in front of him with a sword held high.

In that moment all his training of blocking and parrying with his father and brothers, and drilling with the army went out of his mind in an instant, and he instead just did the only thing he could think off. He plunged forward with his sword.

It was a clumsy plunge, but the man didn't get the shield up in time as he stumbled from the man behind him shoving him forward. The blade went into his left eye at an upwards angle, and he jerked and and ceased moving, still impaled on his blade.

For a moment that seemed to last for an eternity it was just him and the dead man, still held up his sword and strong arms. He stared at the mans face, a boy he realised. A well armored boy with a sword, but a boy of no more than 14 at most.

Then reality wrenched him back as the push from behind shoved him forward. The boy was wrenched from his sword as a man on the opposite side shoved him to the ground and stabbed at Berens neck with a sword of cold dark iron. This time, Berens training did serve him as he quickly raise his sword and parried the blade, most of the force having been thrown off rather than at the blade.

Then he punched the man in the face. He punched hard, and he could feel the nose break, he screaming in pain as he went back, but was held up by the man behind him shoving forward. Berens sword was pointed down towards the ground, no room for a proper swing, or a stab to get through his chainmail.

He put all his might and wrenched the blade upwards, right up and between the man's legs. The blade might not have cut deeply, and it it was caught on his lower chainmail as he ripped upwards. But the scream of pain and agony the man made made it clear the target had been hit.

Another sword punched forward from his side and stabbed the main through the face, putting him out of his misery.

It was father, who then quickly wrenched his blade back to parry a spear trust at his face. Or tried to.

The sword went wrong and the spear went down, not to the side and pierced straight through his father's neck.

He froze in complete shock and horror as he could do nothing but watch as the spear tip was ripped out and went forward a second time, this time through father eye.

That no one killed him in the moment he simply stood and stared, was a miracle by any means, in large part owed to the fact that the man in front was struggling to move the dead man father had killed who had tangled himself on his weapon.

He simply stared in shock as his father went down limply and with no ceremony. The spearman stabbed another man.

The bloodrage took him.

With a scream of a mountain man he threw himself forward, his blade raised high over his head. Nothing else in the world mattered. It was just him and the spearman.

The spearman's head turned in shock as Beren jumped at him. He tried to lift his shield to block but it was at his left hand, and he had to lift it awkwardly over his spear to make it work. He didn't manage it in time.

The blade went into the spearman's helmet, though it did not cut through the iron, the helmet bent around the blow as if it had been an axe brought down on his head. He wrencened it up again, and brought it down again. This time on his shoulder. The blade did not cut through the chainmail, but it didn't matter. He was dead from the first blow shattering his skull.

Beren screamed as he cleaved the sword sideways into the man still trying to untangle the dead eunuch.

The blade hit the man with such force that it took his arm off. As he screamed the blade took him straight in the head, in another savage sideways arc. The impact was not as massive as the spearman's head, but it cracked his skull well enough.

As he swung the blade at another attacker it meet the iron rimmed shield of a Bolton man.

With a echoing snap the blade connected and bit through the iron ring and into the wood, before the blade lodged itself in the shield. He tried to wrench it loose, but the Dreadman wrenched the shield sideways and ripped the weapon out of his hand. He brought his axe up and to swing it down, but Beren threw himself at the man with a scream the likes of which had never before come from his lips.

His right hand shot up around his throat with a grip like the jaws of a Direwolf, while his left went with a punch to the man's gut.

Pain.

He ignored it. Kill. Kill the fuckers, make their blood run Cold.

His hand grasped around the mans belt. A handle. A knife.

He ripped it out of it's socket and plunged it from high into the man's face. Two times. Three times.

Then he showed the dead man hard, into the shield of the man behind him who was still trying to push forward.

The face that looked over the shield was one filled of terror. Good.

A iron covered fist hit him, straight in the face.

"CRUNCH" The sickening sound spoke of a nose broken to pieces.

He screamed and threw himself forward over the shield. He couldn't see for all the pain.

His hand reached for the mans head and closed around it. No, not the head, the face. Two squishy parts under his fingers. He gouged.

A scream of agony and pain.

He PULLED the bastard towards him with the hand that was in his head, and brought the knife up in the other. Down it came, again and again and again.

He panted, as his sight slowly returned from the white stars. He could barely see the enemy anymore. Around him on all sides he saw hook men pushing. He was shoved and pushed hard around by men moved forward and around him.

The bolton line was pushed back. He stared in their direction. Then he quickly bent down and grabbed his eyeless enemy's axe, before he joined the push forward with a scream.

He felt like he should look for someone, but he couldn't remember who. It did not matter. The blood in his mind screamed that he had to kill the bolton bastards.

That was the only thing that mattered.

Kill the enemy, make them die.

He didn't even notice the bloody messy hand which clutched the dagger as if it was his own child.

The blood was the only thing he saw.

Ice bit through the enemy's shield as easy as a warm steel blade cleaved through butter. With little difficulty it cut through the wood and the arm below. After that, a scream followed, but also an instinctual jerking of the body the moment the blade cut flesh.

One thing i had learned about his blade, was that not only was it sharp as as Sin Itself, but the cold was actually a massive advantage all on it's own.

When it bit under the skin it is spread freezing cold directly into the enemy's body. And the reacted to that by instinct, and would without fail jerk violently away from the wound. Which just made them prime for a follow up. Which in this case was a thrust through the head.

I felt… I wasn't sure. I had expected to feel sick, shocked or horrified. Like i felt after each execution back at winterfell. There was none of that. I just felt numb, as if this was my job now, and i had to do it. I supposed it beat out losing myself in rage and battle fever, i wasn't exactly likely to fly into a bloody berserker frenzy.

One downside of not being able to embrace rage and bloodlust was that i had found was that i was not a great warrior. Brandon Stark had been trained in the arts of War, and i certainly had kept his reflexes and strength. But whatever skills he had possessed with the blade i did not. The memories were there, but the actual skills to put the lesson into practice were not.

In hindsight i should probably have trained and put the skills i thought Brandon had to the test. But i had not. I had been so focused on incorporating new technology into the army that my own personal ability had always been a distant, distant second. So this mediocre display would need to do.

I instead got by on a mix of amazing armor and a magical sword which cleaved through mail as easily as it did flesh. That and more competent soldiers around me. Harren in particular was my shadow.

Whenever someone tried to take me from behind or from where i couldn't see, he was always there to bury his axe in their head. He moved as if he had been born in his armor, ready to take on the world.

He was much better than i was at this, that was for damned sure.

Still, mediocre as my own skills were, my Steel lamellar armor and Ice made up for it in spades. The fact i had killed 12 men in maybe 10 minutes was proof enough of that. My shield had tons of hacks large and small, my armor was dented from axe and sword blows, 2 arrows were stuck in the mail. Under the armor i had a ton of minor bruises. I was going to feel like hell itself tomorrow, but that was for then.

The battle raged on for a surprisingly long time as the forces on the opposite side just refused to break. It was mainly composed of what i thought was Bolton's own direct men, though whether Royce was with them i did not know. I assumed he was mounted alongside the small amount of cavalry the Dreadfort had.

That would have been the smart thing. Be ahorse and wait until any point the lines seemed ready to buckle, then use the shock of a mounted charge to break through a weak spot in my lines.

That was what i expected in fact, so i had my own cavalry held back to deal with such an outbreak, Lord Dustin having the command to only engage any who broke through the lines.

As for Bolton's eastern flank foot, they had both an advantage and drastic weakness. Their eastern flank was guarded by the steep cliff of the mountain, meaning i could not flank them from both sides. Hence why this took so long before they broke.

On the other hand my archers up on the mountai ridges were free to loose arrow after arrow on the troops below. They might not be poisoned for this battle, but they would do the job of killing just fine in spite of that.

There was also the fact that when my troops finally did manage to surround them, they would be smashed up against the mountainside with nowhere to run.

The Bolton forces were taking a bloody long time to do it though, the last bid for freedom being channeled into a simple stubborn refusal to fall, break and die.

The line was pushed back however, steadily, slowly but inevitable.

Now i just had to not die and this battle was as good as won.

As if destiny heard me, an arrow came out of nowhere and punched through my left calf, right above my leg armor.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Aug 10, 2019

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#287

Lyanna hammered her axe down into a helmeted skull, the head going all through to his mouth. With a sickening crunch, she wrenched it out and slammed it down on another man's arm. A scream of pain and agony followed and was quickly silenced as her brothers mace took the man in a sideways blow.

Her arms were screaming, her body was screaming. Her lungs were burning as she gasped for air.

At the early part of the battle, the Stark Forces had been punching hard back against the Bolton Forces, now, the king had been carried off the battlefield after a wound. She didnt know what sort of wound, but she had heard the screams and seen the Kings Banner leave with him.

She had thought it must have been a terrible wound, to make the king leave the field. Now she could not manage the energy to think. The energy had gone out of most of the men with the banner leaving. Now, they just held the line, not forcing the Flayed men back.

She was so tired. She just wanted this to end. Whereas the stark Men had waived, the Men of Bolton had been awakened anew with the Kings retreat, and began to push with even more frenzy. How long had it been now? An hour? Less? More? She couldn't tell. All she knew was that it felt as if an eternity had passed since the forces had crashed into each other.

An axe was raised and she barely managed to bring her shield up in time.

The axeblow bit straight through the wood, but didnt come close to hitting her face or arm. Instead, it lodged itself in the shield, as he tried to ripp it out. She swung her axe in a sideways, aiming for his head.

The axe hit but only hit with the flat side of the axe. She had not managed to adjust it before swinging.

Still, the resounding sound as the axe hit him in the helmet, and the way he flinched and staggered made it clear it had affected him clearly.

Before either she could try and follow up or he recover, a spear thrust from the man on her left came up and hit him in the neck. The man of the unfortunate man's side followed that up by braining the spearman's head. Both men, fell down.

The field was strewn with corpses beneath their feet, making it hard to find footing without slipping on them. The ground had lost all it's beautiful green, instead replaced with a ghastly red, as the blood flowed over it.

As the two newest corpses fell to the geound new men on before th sides rushed forth to fill the gap.

In her mind, Lyanna vaguely remembered that the king had said something about how the rest of the army would charge around and hit the enemy in the flank. At least that's what she thought he had said. It was so hard to remember.

The new man was fresh. He was the seventh at her left side today. She thought most of the original front lines had died by now. She and her brother were the last ones she recognized anymore.

The newest man got an axe in the face almost immediately, and she followed that up by bashing him in the head with the rim of her shield, the axe still lodged in it.

A spear thrust towards her head. She ducked and with a force that surprised her sore and screaming body, she swung her axe in an arc and cleaved straight through the spear shaft near the enemy soldiers Hand. She then lifted her axe high to put a hole in his head like she had done with so many other today.

The boy with the broken spear stared up at her in shock and complete terror. He couldn't be more than 13.

She froze, axe still held high.

For a second they just stared at each other, the sound of screams and dying men all around in their ears. The older woman, driven here by honor and the boy on a field he should not be at. A picture of two frozen people here surrounded by death.

With no ceremony an arrow came from above from the mountain ridge and punched through the boy's skull with such force that his skull broke like a an apple hit by a hammer, and the arrow continued on and nailed itself though the legs of two men to the boy's side.

She was deaf to the two new sets of screams of pain that added themselves to the countless others.

All she could do was stare at the child, no younger than Eddara who just got his head burst open, so the brain matter blinded the man the arrow had also hamstrung.

The body fell back on the man behind him, who cursed and and shoved him to the ground before he flung himself forward.

Her mind did not register the danger before it was to late and she flinched back, trying to raise her cleaved shield in time. But before the man's sword came down on her neck, the Man was struck down by a mace taking him in the neck, the neck breaking with a sickening crunch.

The body fell and another came forth to take his place. There was no end to the endless stream of fresh corpses throwing themselves to die today.

Why were they here?

The King had talked about this, why they were here. But it was so hard to remember. She… Wanted to live? Was that why she was here? She would die here. Her brother would die here. They all would die here.

New men came forward with ferocity she could not muster anymore.

The first one made a huge overhead swing, but stumbled, on the boy's…. Head. Or what was left of it.

As he fell back on the shield of the man behind him, somehow she found the strength to bury her axe in his neck. That was the last of her strength though. As the man flailed in his fall, she felt the axe slip from her hands, both they and the shaft being covered in blood.

It went down with the man.

She raised her shield into position, more instinct and the result of drilling than any actual desiree or will.

Another man clad in full iron mail, helmet and that accursed pink came to view at her right, tangling with her brother. The man wielded a massive large axe in one hand. Her brother raised his shield up, and the axe bit through the battered wood, and cut deeply into his shoulder. He screamed and faster than she would have believed, the axe had been ripped from the shoulder and shield and had come again, this time with a savage sideways blow which burst her brothers guts open.

A blow hit her upraised shield, but she didn't notice it. She didn't feel it.

The only thing that mattered to her, was the sight of seeing her brother falling to the ground, yet another lost soul on this field of the dead.

The world came to an end.

The bloodrage took her.

With a scream like a bear, she plunged herself to the right side of the line in a jump towards the man in the Pink surcoat, a rage the likes of which she had not felt since her first boy had his head separated from him by a wildling axe took her mind, her reason, all her thoughts.

All she could think about was that she would make the Pink man suffer.

Her right hand shoot up and grabbed him. By his pink cloak which the spoiled lordling brat had around his neck, while her left hand, shield and stuck axe went around his left side.

With a roar, and an arch, she threw him with a wrestling throw that would have made any bear islander proud, with more force than she could have imagined, the shield straps finally broke and the thing went off her arm. The man, went through the air, straight into her own line.

She didn't care.

In a moment where everyone on both sides were for one short moment stunned, she roared, and threw herself at the fallen man, him having collided with and bounced off of the shield of a very surprised Stark Elite. The axe he had used to take Brandon's life having slipped from his grip and Lying on the ground.

She began with a elbow strike from above as she jumped, hitting him right in the gut.

More pain, shot up her arm, the elbow, only covered by a piece of cloth being more injured than the man of the ground. She grit her teeth with a gnashing like a bear, and instead lifted her hand back, before bringing it to the Man's face.

He jerked hard as the blow fell, but also struggled, his shield hand lifting up to try and punch her. Her damaged arm shot down, and despite her elbow screaming in pain, she held it down as she lifted and brought her other hand down in yet another savage blow.

Then she was shoved backwards, hard, as the stark man she had thrown the man into rushed past her along with several others.

Only her hand around the bastards wrist kept her from being thrown off completely by the press of men. Instead she forced herself back on her knees, with both of them around the man's mail covered chest.

She hit him again. And again. And and again.

As men surged forward and screamed words she didn't care about, she kept pummeling the man beneath her like he was a wildling pillager the village had tied up to beat to death after a failed raid.

She wasn't sure when she stopped hitting him, but by the time she did, her hand was dripping with blood. Mostly hers. She had ripped off a lot of skin.

As she looked down on him, he could see he was still alive. The left side of his face was a battered blue and black mess, and the right side had a lot of bruises too. But he was breathing, though obviously not conscious.

The press of men had stopped at some point while she was beating him. The air was filled with screams, but they were farther away now. The line had been pushed back.

The men around her had formed a small circle, with room around her and the fallen man, and those not with their focus on pushing forward to the line stood and stared at her, many with mouth gaping.

It was like how her father had described the scene of the Warg King's defeat, just without silence, there was plenty of screams of agony all around the air as well as the screams of men still fighting a bit away.

"ROPE." One of the men suddenly shouted "WE NEED ROPE."

What? Why? Why would they need rope? There were no quarters given, no hostages taken for ransom. This Bastard would DIE by her hands, she just had to find an axe, so she could bury it in his… Skull.

She blinked. She actually looked at his skull, actually seeing it for the first time, now that her blood cooled. She hadn't seen it before, but around his head was a helmet, with a circle of red Crosses around it.

This was the King of the Dreadfort. Royce Bolton. The Redarm.

As the realisation struck her, The pain finally set in, and she winced as her entire body surged with pain and agony.

The boiling wine did not look appealing knowing where it would go. I had considered just ignoring the boiling of the alcohol, and have the maester pour it over unboiled, but the fact was that i had no fucking idea whether it was better or worse to boil it to clean wounds. So i let the maester do as he was trained.

I had set up a shortened table to be treated at, as well as have some semblance from where i could direct the battle.

I needed to lead, despite the fact i could not even stand. The fucking arrow had hit me from the side, right behind my Splinted greaves and above the metal pieces that was fastened around my leg to keep it in place.

The arrow had not gotten stuck in me. Instead it had shot straight through my leg and ripped through my calf like a knife. I had fallen to my knee immediately, but thanks to harren, i had made it out with no bolton man taking advantage and caving in my helmet.

The fact i had been forced to leave the field did not necessarily mean things would deteriorate. After all, we still had the numbers and we still held instead of attacking. I could thank the situation deteriorating on my Lucifer Cassel, my weapon carrier.

I had been too occupied with the sheer pain and gritting my teeth to notice him until we had gotten out and set up shop behind the lines on a makeshift war center(actually just table from the baggage train my men had quickly chopped the bottom most parts of the legs away from.).

By the time i realised that my standard had left the battlefield alongside me, it had been too late and i had just had to try and fix it.

As could be expected, the morale of the men on my right flag had completely faltered. Which was not unsurprising. When a king fell on the field, one of two things generally happened.

Either the men would rally in anger and avenge their monarch, or they would all depended on circumstances and how well loved the man was.

I however had been forced to abandon the battlefield after an injury. Which might not have mattered if the foot loved me and would be wiøling to die to defend my retreat. But for most of the men it was my first battle with them. The men might like me or at least have nothing against me. But they did not love me. Not yet.

And as such the sight for all to see that the kings banner was leaving the field had been a hammer blow to morale. If Lucifer had just stayed, the fact i had been forced off the field would not instantly have spread. But it had.

And as such i had been forced to completely change tactics.

The men who should have surged forward to flank and envelop the Eastern Bolton Flank, had instead been sent to back up the eastern line, and reinforce it from behind, just so that they would not break through.

It was ironic. Every other place in the army my plan had worked swimmingly. The Boar to my left, and the one to the far west had already been completely enveloped if the rider who kept me updated could be trusted. They were dead men, with the third flank in the middle soon to follow suit.

Either way, it didn't help me much. The tactic i was using mean that each of the three would be at it until everyone inside the envelopment were dead. Which could take an hour for each of them. The fourth and final wedge however, was not breaking. Outnumbered by almost 2 to one this final battalion of the Dreadfort just refused to break.

It had held for a good half hour against my own men, and according to the Deepwood motte warg, i was losing men on that front quicker than Royce was.

Either way, Dustin would soon be back. I would simply have to let straggler riders that were still waiting to break through go. I needed to send in the cavalry to end this by hitting the final Battalion in the back.

I could only hope that Royce didn't get away on horseback.

Right now though, i had to focus on the wine, and the stick i had been given to bite down on. The stick in question was a sword hilt, but right now i couldn't give less of a shit how fucking silly i looked with a sword clenched in my mouth.

The maester carefully unwrapped the bandages that had hastily wrapped around my wound to keep it from bleeding out. That all on it's own hurt like a motherfucker, my destroyed muscles being exposed to the wind made me long for the sweet days of painkillers.

The worst was yet to come however.

"Hold him fast lads, he'll move when the pain comes."

No fucking shit i would move. The soldiers holding me however did as they were told and strengthened their grip. My own men thankfully. God knows this was humiliating enough. I did not need to have my soldiers from bear island spread the tales of it.

The wine filled bowl was tipped.

THE PAIN! THE AGONY! IT SHOT STRAIGHT UP FROM MY LEG, AND WENT STRAIGHT TO THE DEEPEST CORNERS OF MY MIND!

GOD TAKE THE GREEK WHO INVEMTED THIS METHOD, AND FUCK MARTIN FOR USING IT IN HIS WRITING!

I Bit down so hard i thought i could feel the wood beginning to crack under my bite.

It just would NOT END! For fucking ever as it felt to me the wine kept pouring and boiling my precious skin, as the fuckers around me kept me down with a stone grip.

Then with no warning, it was over. Oh, the pain was certainly Not gone, but the wine stopped pouring. Then cloth quickly beagn to clean ofd the wine, then another piece of cloth was set around my leg, and with one last final massive pang of pain it was fastened.

My breathing steadied, and the men keeping me down let go. My hand shakily went to my mouth and i took hold of the sword hilt. It had not actually cracked i saw, but it had left teeth marks that were clear enough.

I Handed it to one of my elite, yet another Brandon, and gave a quick thanks for the loan. He gave some standard courtesy i did not hear. I was still in shock and the pain was still lingering in my leg.

With some effort, i moved up to a sitting position, with my legs hanging out from the bench. I made sure that my leg did not touch the ground, as i held up my hand at the advancing riders, led by Lord Dustin.

"Stark." Dustin exclaimed with a weary tone which did not match his regular demeanor, nor did his forgetting his courtesies. His face was covered in blood and so was his right hand. The mail was undamaged so i assumed it was his enemy's blood.

We just dealt with the stragglers, who made it through the lines most west. What now?"

As i opened my mouth to answer, the Warg of Lord Glover suddenly awoke from his magical induced nap.

"The Line! Breaking!" he got out slurringly.

Dustin suddenly shifted all his attention towards the Warg.

"A break? Where? Where is it Skinchanger?"

"No, not us my lord, the Bolton line." He straightened up, fully awake. "The line is finally being pushed back."

Well that was good news.

If the Line finally began to break, then most likely…

"Royce is dead i take it?" I butted in. Dustin shut his trap and after a quick look at me, he looked back and also stared at the warg in silence.

"No." The warg Replied. "Not dead, captured. A woman in green took him."

Well that was good news. In any case, it was time to finish this.

"Dustin, you charge up and around the the first encirclement, then hit the Archers in the back and break them. Then hit the last battalion in the back with a charge."

The man in yellow with the two axes made a salute with his axe sideways, then he turned and yelled for his men to follow.

I turned to the warg.

"Is Royce being taken here?"

"I think so My Magnar. They were yelling for Rope when i Came back to my own mind."

I quickly motioned towards an unarmored archer. "Take rope and get it to the king. Then bring him and the lady who took him down here."

The archer quickly went about getting my orders done, but instead of resting, i went about getting the final bit of information i needed at the moment.

I turned to the Maester.

"How bad was it?"

The Maester looked at me with a look that reminded me way too much of a doctor about to give some really bad news, but after a bit of silence he finally replied.

"It's… Very Bad my Magnar. Very bad. It was thankfully not too dirty so i dont think youll need to worry about infection. But…."

"Yes…?" I replied, not interested in playing coy about the extent of the injury.

"Even after it heals, you… You'll have a limp my Magnar. How large i don't know, but the arrow was barbed, and cut several muscles hard. In the best case scenario, you'll be able to ride at a decent speed again one day. But you will… Never be able to fight again i'm Afraid. I'm sorry. "

He winched and looked rather scared at that last part, as he was afraid that i would explode at him for this piece of news. My men also looked completely aghast at the news.

I sighed. Well, that fucking sucked. As if to remind me of that fact, the wind picked up and i winched again at the pain.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Aug 13, 2019

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#300

Iron Salesman, now king of Steel.

From The North Way, to Iron Islands. From Golden lion on the red, to Chained amalgam of the dead. Slaves and thralls made that banner, make it mean something more.

The Drowned God slatterns all in salt, his own and their victims both alike, their lives and deaths mean nothing in his eyes.

The Seven Star is shining bright, in it, glory, riches, salvation lies. Follow Olav, First and Second, in their footsteps you have learned, on a cross of blood, their land was made, do the same. Paint it red, an Iron Star replace the drowning dead.

Across the water, a new start, trade now beating in your heart. Steel for all, from the heights, the rivers and water always falling, your new engines never stalling.

Plated steel in all the lands, riches follow homeward bound, silks, Furs, wood, fruit, grain and spices. The sea trade will be your beating heart, a new empire all around, the seas are yours, islands many, but conquer not unto the land.

Wood and iron, crowned by sails, these are your life, but in your heart the steel and steam are burning bright.

Go North, go south, go east sea king. Do not go west, or doom will fall, upon Fair and fractured Westeros.

The doom will come to the the land of summer, but it is false, a new horror will follow. You will bring it, if you go, leave the ashes to their dead, do not bring news, do not share maps, do not ally with the serpent bright. Betrayal will you suffer when the sun sets upon that night.

To the four corners you will go, death and glory you will know, the heart of Winter, the heart of the Shadow, the heart of the Sun, the heart of the Green. You will go to all of these, across the salty stormy seas.

Your life, your Curse, your Glory Bright. All you need is to sail along the ever northward pointing Knife.

Fortune awaits.

All For The Islands.

Look to the Waves.

\- Runestone 7. Written in the Andal tongue. Curious Imagery. Most seems to be about the History of the Iron Islands in the final days before the Rise of the Empire. Where the Golden Lion on Red(an obvious reference to The Royal House of Lannister) Fits in, is not clear. Further Study Needed.

Harrald Steelsong, Historian of the Imperial University of Orkmont.

Last edited: Aug 13, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks Final Battle - Aftermath 1 New

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#309

I sat down awkwardly, having been helped on down from my makeshift seat to an actual chair…Well a throne to be specific. Well carved and intricate with Celtic style Wolf imagery, but still light enough to be transported along with the army it was my throne for the Campaign. I hadn't been planning on having it taken out before we reached the dreadfort and i would hold court in it's ruins, but after this victory i needed to do things grand style.

Well, grand style for Northmen anyway. If i had been in the south, this would probably have had full blown pageantry and all that shit. Here there was just lots and lots of tables, seats and so on with the Direwolf banner on both my sides.

The Battle was over, and other than maybe 20-30 riders who had managed to make a break through the lines, as well as Royce, pretty much every single Bolton man was dead.

So was around a thousand and 200 of my own northmen, which was a hard blow. It could have been WAY worse i knew, but every single dead was a loss, not just for me, and their families, but for the North itself.

We were now in the end phase of the war, and the only thing that remained was to make the arduous march around to the next bridge down south, then make my way back up to to the dreadfort, and finish this war finally.

And after that? Well, then i could finally get going with my plans to modernizing this country. Hopefully the guys i had left at Winterfell had gotten at least a couple of my Designs working. Tom had gotten orders to do, authority to pick men from the guilds to help him and designs to work on while i was gone.

I was curious to see which designs would be a dud, and which would actually show results.

Now though… now was time to let my men have some time to rest and recover. Which in this case meant a feast for all.

After the battle had finally ended, there had been around 4-5 hours dealing with the aftermath. Counting the dead, looting the Bolton men. Digging out the stakes the Bolton force had put in their trenches so we could use them as graves for the dead. My northmen got the tallest trench, while the bolton men got the rest. Needless to say, there had been much more care taken with our men, who had generally been allowed to keep their possessions, barring such things as armor, gold and weapons.

The boltons however had been stripped naked,. And thrown heedlessly into the trenches before being covered with earth. many had had their blood drained into kegs, which men had carried several kilometers to spray on the nearest grove of weirwoods.

That was the regular custom with fallen enemies in the north at this time. Giving their blood to the gods, whether you cut of their heads and drained their blood, or skinned them and hung their skins up on the branches, or ripped the entrails out and hung those up on the trees.

It was the same with criminals. Most likely this was an evolution of the human sacrifice the early first men had done.

After all, we didn't kill men to sacrifice to the gods anymore. That would have been uncivilized. No we just sacrificed our enemies and criminals instead.

In my old life, i would have been appalled. But i was too tired after the battle, and i was too numbed by all the death i had caused to try and bring myself to stop it. The living were the ones who mattered, not the dead.

Countless smaller wounds covered my army, some horrible, some not. Either way, i had sent my maester away to tend to the wounded(more realistically he was undoubtedly going to check up on my lords before anyone else), and help as many as he could.

It had been a long day, and as i sat listening to reports while scanning the battlefield, i couldn't help but think of the redgrass field. The day the grass bleed. There had been far fewer men dead here, that was true, but the grass really did look like it bleed, flowing down in streams from the four places where my men had surrounded the Bolton men.

I wondered how history, and the tall tales would remember this battle.

After all was said and done, the wounded taken care off, the dead buried and the huge ass pile, it was time for the feast.

It felt… Incredibly inappropriate to hold a feast after so many were dead. I had seen more than enough men who had the vacant expression on their face, or were openly crying over some brother, father son, or just their friends dead on this long slope.

It felt so fucking wrong to celebrate after all this. But as i knew from every memory Brandon had, this was the Northern way. Both on the part of the men and the king. It said a lot about Northern Culture that they took it for granted to make celebration after these kinds of bloodbaths. The Kings part was to reward his followers with a feast after battles such as these.

It was part of being a ring giver and all that jazz. Had to be seen as a open handed monarch who rewarded his followers. Which… was a kinda cynical way to look at it. After all, i wanted to be a rewarding king who rewarded loyal and good service.

I had to balance it though. I needed to forge a large independant powerbase which would not be given away by the crown. The castle of Winterfell, Wolfs den, Moat Cailin, Sea Dragon Point, and soon to join them the Dreadfort, and their respective provinces was Royal Land. I needed them to forge my own independent source of produce and revenue. I needed to be seen as open handed and charitable while keeping these lands for myself.

Large Feasts for all was a good way to do that. Symbolic and in the grand scheme not too debilitating for my finances. Huh. I never thought i'd actually think of a good reason to waste resources on parties, but apparently i had. Parties, no matter how expensive was always better than giving away land. After all, it was a temporary boon. Giving away lordship over land? That was forever. Or until the family died out or rebelled.

In any case, open handedness was an important part of my Kingship going forward. I would not be able to play the role of a martial king anymore, so i would need other ways to play up my Kingship. I had a lot of plans for that, but they were still far away for now.

Anyhow, i supposed it was time to get this feast started.

Lucifer, standing by me, ready to serve at a moment's notice, handed me a staff to lean on so i wouldn't need to put weight on my leg.

I cleared my throat. This was far less dramatic than my speech to the entire army, but it was still a speech in front of many folk. Namely my Lords.

All around was my host, drinking and feasting, and some songs, some melancholy and some bawdy. Song. Real actual songs. How long had it been since i heard that?

While the army had gotten into the spirit of victory celebration though, the same was not the case here, at the nobles seat. Surrounded on all sides by tents for the common men, it was a mini court of sorts, kinda like an outdoor version of of winterfell's feasting hall.

The final Lord i was waiting for before i started the feast had finally arrived, Lord Fisher from the Stoney Shore. And with him here i could wait no longer, so i suppose it was time to just get it over with.

I raised myself to my feet, making sure to hold myself up by my staff and NOT put weight on my leg.

"My Lords!" I called loudly. The sounds around the four tables i had set up for the lords queited.

The talk ceased, and all turned their heads towards me. I could read on their expressions a wide variety of feelings. Some were cheerful, happy, joyful and ready to listen to whatever i put before them and clap at every beat.

Others were dull, or still in shock, presumably still dealing with personal loss or just their first taste of battle.

Lord Dustin, who had always been so annoyingly chipper and always with a stupid quip, now sat sullenly contemplating his cup of mead. He had exchanged his bloody Filthy Chainmail and surcoat for a clean chainmail with only a yellow cloak to showcase his coat of arms. He didn't feel safe anymore.

Ryswell looked like thunder itself, his son and heir having died in the battle. That meant his current heir was a 6 year old boy. I would need to do something to win his loyalty. I couldn't just keep letting more and more things happen to erode it.

There were others like that. Lords great and small.

Then there was the third group, the smallest one. The one made up of men who really didn't seem like they gave a shit one way or another.

The only one of those of note was Lord Kraken.

Whatever their feelings, they all turned to look at me, to hear what i hd to say.

"My Lords, i do not wish to keep you long. We have all spilt and lost a lot of Blood on this day. Both of our enemies and our Kin."

"However, before i allow you all to eat as you like and empty all my mead, there are some things that need to be said."

I wondered how i looked. I had hoped i would look the part of a regal and wise king, leaning on my staff. I didn't feel like that though, it felt bloody humiliating to do it, to showcase my crippled leg to the world. I already regretted not just remaining seated.

"Firstly, i wish to inform all of you of our current plans. For the Next three days, we will rest before we begin the final march of this campaign, so feel free to drink as much as you wish tonight. It will not be a problem tomorrow in regarding to our future march."

There was some cheering at that but not that much. God, i wasn't good at this whole inspiring speeches thing.

"And of course, i would be a poor King if i did not take this time to proclaim and Welcome the two Newest Members of our old and proud Nobility."

I motioned with my hand towards two figures who sat near my own table. Both rose from their seat, walked over and knelt in front of me.

"Firstly, we have Eddard Brokenbridge, the Man who played the Most critical part the preparations for this battle."

"Taking a Great personal Risk and under constant danger of discovery by the Bolton Army for days, he braved the perilous climb over the mountains and Destroyed the Bridge if doom, trapping the Bolton Host on this side of the River and Forcing it to Battle. Thanks to him, none of us had to do a repeat of the first battle."

"As reward for this I Name him Count of Knifeton, an old keep and town on the White Knife."

At this there was actual cheering. Some lowkey ones just raised a cup, but also a lot of the more cheerful lords really gave it an effort. It was genuine. Real. Passionate.

That kinda surprised me. Then again, should it have? The mood after the last battle had been melancholic all around. There had been a feast then too, but no one had been overjoyed, or truly celebrating then.

This new Count(the first one in the North) had spared all the men a repeat of that, which they had all lived through. It wasn't that surprising they cheered. Also, i had not named him a lord. Which meant this was standard fare in regards to post battle reward. Other than the new title, this was no different than any other maan being named Elite for his effort. Count, said title, was effectively what i planned to replace the title of Landed Elite with. Landed Knight was a stupid enough title, but the Northern equivalent was also in dire need of renaming.

I had other titles planned too, but the restructuring of the naming hierarchy of the land could wait until it was time to parcel out land.

I let the cheers die down before i moved on to the next one. The Lady from Bear Island.

She looked quite a bit different than she did on the Battlefield, dressed in a set of fine grey clothing i had procured for her in her size.

When she had been brought before me, the first thing i had been reminded off was Guts From Berserk. A stunning height at a bit over two meters Tall, with raven black hair, and utterly and completely covered in Blood from head to toe she had looked like a Demon. The front of her Tunic was so fucking drenched in blood that the original green had effectively been replaced by the blood. Like a foul smelling deep red dye.

Now, she was reasonably well cleaned up, with nothing remaining of the blood, other than a bandaged hand. Wonders what a Bath could do. Well, the closest thing a war camp had to baths anyway. I had lent both of a bath with an attendant to clean them up and make them representable for this.

Now that the blood was gone, i had gotten a clearer look at her face, which in general had sharp features, which kinda reminded me of Wit from the Stormlight archive. Blue eyes, and a thin but long scar across her left forehead. She wasn't unattractive, but not a great beauty either. In her mid to late thirties i guessed.

Despite her terrifying appearance, she had been very reverend of me when brought before me. Giving no side look to my leg. I had noticed those beginning to happen already. My lords would glance down at my leg while talking to me, then quickly look back to my face.

The North was not kind to the invalids. The cripples, the Bastards and the Broken. I was the first and third right Now, and had been the second in my previous life.

Not that it mattered. By the time i was done, i would be remembered as Brandon the Builder come again. This was just an embarrassing first chapter.

This Lady though, had not shown any scorn because of the leg. Nor did she do so now. Instead she gave me the respect that was due a King.

"Secondly we have Lyanna Dreadbane, who achieved the feat of capturing the King of the Dreadfort alive, so that he might experience True Justice for his crimes."

Said king was currently locked up in a wooden cage modeled after the one TV Robb had kept Jaime in. His face had swollen up rather grotesquely after the beating it suffered, but despite that he had been in surprisingly good form once he woke up.

Not that said good form would save him in the end.

"As i promised, i would reward Whomsoever Brought me the Last Red King alive, with the Lordship of the Dawnforest."

That had sounded like a cool thing to say in my pre planned speech. A reward to make my men fight harder. Once i had said it, it had felt like it was a completely random thing to say. Quoting Grand Admiral Thrawn had just made me look idiotic, given our situations had been incredibly different. A pre battle speech was not the same as an order.

"As such, i name her The Lord of Dawnforest, and all it's Land. In recognition, and thanks for her deeds."

This time the reception was much cooler. The happy and cheering part of my audience gave some polite clapping, but little cheers. The only part which gave a large salute was a small clique of people from where Lady Lyanna had been sitting. The masters of Bear Island and it's ruling Lady.

They cheered and slammed the their mugs in appreciation.

The rest was far colder. There was no booing of course. One did not boo at a Kings Boon, not in a feudal society where such an action could instantly kill any hope for a position at court. But i could see that there was a large portion who was hostile towards this appointment.

For one, it was a woman being granted a lordship. Which… Might have been the first time ever in the North. Outside of Bear Island, there would be no liberal views on gender equality.

Secondly, it was a Lordship being granted to a commoner, not just a keep. Landing brave warriors was all well and good, and giving them a keep for services to their overlord was a fine and long kept tradition in the North. A lot of Masterly houses had begun that way.

A lordship though? That was a different story. It almost never happened. Just like everywhere else in Westeros, there was a prejudice of people who "Got above their Station.". I was going to rattle that prejudice a lot in the coming Years.

In any case, the only place which gave the Lady full applause was her fellow provincials, proud of one of their own achieving the honor of taking down the Last Red King. That was an Honor all of these houses would have killed for.

The rest either were polite in the face of their King or Hostile in the face of a commoner getting the old seat of House Dawn.

I really couldn't Give a shit right now to be honest.

"Rise." I commanded as the applause died down.

"And Now my Lords, i shall trouble you no further. I am sure all of you Wish to Dine and drink one another under the table. So feel free to participate of all my Mead and Meat as you please."

At that i sat down in my seat again.

I handed Lucifer the staff, and began to dig into my feast. As had been usual for the campaign it was meat. Well prepared meat, but meat nonetheless. God i was growing tired of meat.

As i began to eat, so did all the rest of the lords and masters invited to this feast. The regular sounds of Meal Time i had become accustomed to. People talking, jokes, laughter. Clanking of utensils and cups.

"Go take a seat and eat Lucifer." I motioned to my Weapon carrier. "I have no more need for you tonight."

He bowed and hurried off towards where his brother, the current family head sat.

I would give my army some time to rest and recover. I would have done that even if i didn't need time to make a proper carriage to carry me.

I was. King after all. I couldn't be arriving at the eve of my greatest military Victory in the same cart that the Food came in.

Pity it wasnt winter, or i could have come in a horse drawn sled.

But that was for later.

The snows were a long way away, and i would not need a grand sled network just yet.

Last edited: Sep 2, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks Book Extract. The Confusing History of Noble Titles, from Yi Ti to Thenn New

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#315

Extract from "The Confusing History of Noble Titles, from Yi Ti to Thenn" by Sansa Strider, Writer and Historian under Maria "The Firecrown" Yronwood, High Queen of Dorne.

Northern Noble Hierarchy post 2438.

King In The North - Monarch.

High-Lord - Ruler of a Province.

Viscount - Ruler of a City and it's responding County.

Lord - Ruler of a County.

Count - Ruler of a Town.

Clan-Lord - Ruler of a Clan.

Baron - Ruler of a holdfast with land enough to support 25 Riders.

Master - Ruler of any Holdfast which cannot support 25 Riders.

Brandon the Architects Remaking of the North's Titles was like most of the redefining of Noble Titles during the Modern Era, a badly needed restructuring of exactly what separated the Various Lords of the Land from each other.

By establishing exactly what defined each Lord, he was also able to define the rights, duties, privileges of each member of the Nobility. It also did away with the Confusing structure where a Lord could have a Vassal who was a Lord, who in turn had a Vassal who was also a Lord.

By establishing a clear Cut hierarchy, this was done away with completely. No Lord could now be sworn to a Lord, only to a High-Lord, or the King Directly.

This system would have Many benefits, in particularly that it made Taxation far easier, helped in no small part by the Kings own reforms on the subject. It was also crucial in simplifying the chain of Lordships of which The King's Justice(as the Northern Judges would be called) would operate within.

That being said however, the early restructuring was not perfect, and more significant, a lot of the structure would be rendered obsolete by the march of progress.

The Title of Count were originally planned to be a replacement for the title of Landed Elite, before the King realised that the definition of a Landed Elite was so vague that it often overlapped with the title of Master. Hence it's restructuring for Rulers of a Town. This in turn lead to the next step up from the ruler of a Town. The ruler of a City. A Viscount.

Most famous of The many Viscounties of the North(The rulers of the Cities that was the King's great Passion) is the Viscount of White Harbour, the traditional Title of the Heir Apparent. The Biggest City in the North, and the second Richest, the Northern Pearl is the King's greatest port, and the seat of the Navy.

Second, in both power, prestige and influence is The Viscounty of Overton, seat of the Dreadstarks, the Cadet Branch of the Royal Family. Seated at the End of the Weeping Water it is the third Largest and richest City in the Kingdom, After Winterfell and White Harbour.

The Title of Viscount was not thus planned, but an adaptation over time, as the many Cities of The North began to rise and a new title was created to distinguish the rulers of Towns and Cities.

In opposite of that was titles which was not planned to disappear, but were either effectively or in fact rendered obsolete.

Most notable is probably the ancient title of Master, which was completely replaced by the Title of Baron as the Northern Army adapted, and stopped relying on A mounted Levy at all towards the end of Brandon's reign. Originally, the Title of Baron was meant to differentiate the Masters which would provide to the Cavalry levy.

However, as time went on, and the Great era of peace which would define most of Brandons reign(after a tumultuous beginning) began to set in, Masters began to realise that as long as they had 25 Horses(no matter how well equipped for war they were. ) and men who could ride them, they could reap the Benefits(Most Notably a guaranteed spot for their Heirs at the University of Winterfell) and the prestige which Came with the Baronial Title.

After all, so long as no war came, this Cavalry would never be put to the test. Thus for a long time, the North's Cavalry was effectively the worst in westeros. This would only stop when the Levy was finally done away with for good and all.

At this point the Master title was done away with completely, and the title Baron became the standard of which any Holdfast owner went by, having effectively replaced it already.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Sep 2, 2019

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Sep 22, 2019

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#328

The sounds of the campfire, crackling wood as the logs cracked beneath the flame, and the sounds as more logs were thrown to keep it going, were the only things Beren could hear.

He knew, logically, that all around him he was surrounded by thousands of men cheering and laughing and drinking. Yet he could not hear it. Odd. He had been wounded during the battle, but not in his ears. He had been able to hear thing during and after the battle.

Now though… It was just him and the fire, as he stared into it's depths. Flickering and ever in motion, the fire was never still. It was like the sea, it's opposite in so many ways, But this they had in common. Neither was ever still, despite how it could look to any who had never been familiar with them.

He missed the sea. He needed to cleanse himself in it's embrace. There had been a smaller tributary river that flowed into the weeping water a bit south. That's where they had cleaned up after the battle. The ones who could walk anyway.

It hadn't been enough. The blood hadn't come off him, no matter how much he had dunked himself into the water. The water here was filthy. unpure. He needed the sea. The sea would cleanse him.

He was a hook man. He belonged at sea, not here, in the shadows of Black sharp mountains.

He missed the Hook.

The Hook had taken an arrow in the eye in the battle.

He missed his father.

He saw the spear trusts in the flames.

He missed Jon and Tom, and their love for pranks, memories of them ambushing him with snowballs when he had just come home from fishing last winter dancing through his head.

His stupid, small brothers had been killed by blows to the head, cracking their brains open before the sky.

His left hand twitched as the memories of last winter gave way to the sight of finding them after the battle.

He Missed Benjen and Brandon. Benjen with his constant need to be the responsible heir of the house, Benjen and his quiet works.

Memories of Benjen standing up for him when he had been younger, before he had grown, getting into fights with Brandon from the huts over when he picked on Beren. Him helping Benjen when he had sneaked off to see Eddara, always doing his brothers share of the work.

Brandon had loved to carve things. He had loved to make intricate things with a knife and wood. Not useful things, but beautiful things, figurines, carvings and so on. Father had never cared for those.

"The Sea and women are the only thing of Beauty we need Brandon." He would proclaim before sending him off for work and chores. Beren had often let Brandon carve away anyway while he did the work father sent them to do.

Both had been in the front rank. Crushed beneath hundreds of feet trampling them beneath them after the first rank had broken.

He should cry shouldn't he? He felt like he should cry. A part of him hated himself for not crying at it all. For not wailing his sorrow beneath the stars.

But… He couldn't. The only thing he managed do was to sit there under the stars, in front of a fire, numb to all around him. The Warmth was the only thing in the world which felt real. That and the Gold.

In his right hand, he clutched a bracelet. It was a really fancy one. Actual Gold with Obsidians in it. He had looted it off some noble. That and a large sword of bronze. He had found his old sword after the battle, but it had been dented and bent beyond use. He had looted the new one too.

Most of the men around him had gotten Chainmails, new weapons, and the occasional piece of jewelry.

He had just taken the sword and the bracelet. He didn't need anything else.

His world had ended. What need did he have of spoils and armor?

Lucifer sipped his mead from the steel tankard he had been given by the King.

Steel on a drinking cup. What a bloody waste. At least the armor was a sensible use of the metal.

He hated that too, though. By the Gods it felt good to ditch the extra weight and just be dressed in leather and cloth again.

As he had known ever since winterfell, the King knew exactly what he was. He had simply misread the Wolf King's intentions regarding him.

He had assumed he wanted him and his ilk dead, like his grandfather and father before him.

Instead, the King had drafted a new Law to harness the Wargs as a tool for war and peacekeeping(whatever that entailed).

Thus had been Born The Wardens, an organization which all the wargs of the North now technically belonged to, under the protection of the King himself.

He had even got a position in the new Order, as Warden Commander of the Wolf's Den, a provincial Title which would give him the responsibility of all Wargs in the land around the Wolf's Den.

Which by what the Kings had explained to him, was effectively a useless title right now, as at the moment, all Wargs would be brought to winterfell and receive 5 Years of training before they were sent anywhere. So he would get to squat in the new castle the King was building to replace the old one, for half a decade before he actually got anything to do.

That was what he would expect with his luck.

That Robb, the Warg from Deepwood Motte had been named Warden Commander of Winterfell, and had a salary 3 times his own just reinforced that point.

At least he would be getting paid to just stand around not doing anything. 15 Wolves a month, which he assumed was a decent amount of money. Money. What a strange concept. He was from the neck, and certainly not a stranger to trade and Bartering. The entire structure of The neck was built upon trading for goods.

But it was always sensible goods, like leather, arrowheads, dye or bronze. He just didn't understand how the same applied to these small "Coins". Other than being made of a pretty and shiny metal, he didn't see any use for them. Yet everyone treated the silver of the king as the logical barter item outside of the neck. Bizarre.

He supposed it was a decent life, but he had quickly come to chafe under it already.

He had been given a set of the Kings new Armor, the lobster Steel as the men called it. He would take their word for it. He had never seen a lobster. Personally he thought it looked more like the skin of a lizard lion.

It was truly great armor, far better than his previous leather.

It would have been a great help for him… If he ever went into Battle. Which he did not. He had spent the entire Battle of the Bloody Hill, warging a bird safely behind the lines. As he had come to learn, warging while wearing armor alway left him sore as if he had flogged.

Sleeping on metal plates was the best comparison he could make he supposed.

That was a constant pain, but far worse was the four. Men the King had sent to guard him. Everywhere he went, he was followed by four men in similar armor, armed with heavy axes and shields. And they followed him everywhere he went. EVERYWHERE.

They were amiable enough men he supposed, but by the Stars, he was getting tired of them shadowing his every move.

Tonight though, he and they got to enjoy a good rest, inside the ring the King had set up for his nobles. Now they were all guarded by some unlucky sods who had been denied getting to drink and eat as they pleased and instead had to guard.

So him, and his four guards just got to sit back and enjoy some good drinks.

At least he would have, if the King was not sitting less than 30 Feet away.

The pressure he always felt from the King had not abated, and it still haunted his waking hours. Only in sleep did he escape the feeling of Doom the King and his Shadow brought with him wherever they went.

As he sipped from the mead, and pretended not to feel sick at the feeling of dread from behind him, he sadly reflected on the truth of the Matter.

He would never get to live in the neck Again. This was his life now. Far away from the comforts of the Swamps.

At least at The Wolf's Den, he would not have to live with the King Thankfully. He really, REALLY hoped he would not have to live with the king.

Sep 22, 2019

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#336

From Healer unlike any other, to King of Strongest Western Land.

The White Cross on the red, to Emerald hand on blank patterns white. From on High, you rule the land, enemy of Neutral lying men, friend of all no matter banners, the green and fertile fields your rule.

Broken, beaten, sick and dying, all will come to you seeking healing. You will grant it, with your hands create a legend, heal the sick, feed the needy, teach your skill to countless others, make them heal so much more.

The rest of the World will burn their neighbors lands, for wealth and fame, slaves and glory, show them all a better way.

Your name will echo far and wide, the world will not forget your deeds, from east to west, from north to south, all will love you, an adoration unlike any other.

All except the tower Mice. Do not show mercy, break them down, steal their skills, make a new tower for the art of healing.

In eastern lands, the great threat will die, you will help all, no matter banner, all of them will welcome you.

Do not assume war is gone, it will come, burning all, healer's son. Your fields will burn, your towers fall, the seats of learning open to all, will crumble to blackened ashes beneath the flames.

Burning Death will be hard to ignore, millions will be lost in less than one year of war.

First day of the new world, Your Cities are burned, your fields are ashes and land burned like twigs, but from the ashes a new hope shall spring.

Resist the dragons, rise and strike back, one continent will rise from Empires fallen, an alliance to weather the hardest of storms, of fire and thunder, of dragons and steel, of Ice and Fire.

What has been burned can be replanted.

The seeds beneath are not touched by the flame.

From the ashes Westeros will be Reborn.

Spring forth.

\- A translation of Stone 3. Written in the tongue of the first Men. Uses a word which translates to a million, despite said number not having a translation or an equivelant in the First tongue during the time period the stones have been accepted to be telling about.

The closest equivelant translates to "Countless Numbers" but this stone doesnt use that number.

Further questions are raised.

Most of the stones mentions a great war of Fire involving dragons. This seems unlikely, given recent development in the east.

Ariel Dawnsinger, Historian of the Imperial university of Hoarre.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Sep 22, 2019

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Kingofwinter

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Sep 26, 2019

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#346

Donny Dustin, lord of the Barrowlands and Magnar of Barrowton, was anxious in the darkening evening. He had been so for the last two weeks. Ever seen The battle of the Bloody Hill, he had been anxious, nervous that something would go wrong and he would need to be ready when it did.

It was a truly annoying feeling, and the complete opposite of how he had spent his life. He had been confident, calm, always ready with a joke. He still made those, he hadn't lost his great sense of humor, but they didn't come as naturally to him as they had all his life.

He was unsure if this new anxiousness was going to stay with him. He really hoped not. Eight and twenty was an age you should be who you were supposed to be, not some youth who was broken by battle.

He wasn't broken, not at all. He had been unwounded throughout the fight, he had struck down dozens of men, maybe as much as sixty had fallen to him and his axe. Not one had managed to strike back against the charge of the Barrowmen.

They were dead, and he was alive. Their blood had drenched his clothing and mail. The blood of those who lost, dead men who could not harm him anymore.

They won the battle. That was the only thing that mattered. Bad dreams would go away eventually. Victory was forever, unlike the fantasy that was dreams.

For now, he would focus on what mattered. Today was a big day. A day which would be remembered forever as a turning point in history.

This was not the first time the might of stark had obliterated the forces of the Dreadfort on the field. They had done so dozens of time in history. Then they had been left to deal with the final task of any eastern conquest. Break the might of the Black Fortress.

It was a task armies had tried and utterly failed to do countless times.

And small wonder that was.

The king had given him the task of taking the fortress, and granted him control over the host to do it. 6000 men had force marched with him here, while the King and the remaining army had remained behind for a week, before they would take a slower march, here.

Alongside him, the wounded had remained to recover as best they could.

Meanwhile, Donny had marched at the head of a massive host down south of the River, and then crossed the south bridge, before finally marching back north again to the Dreadfort.

It had been an arduous journey, and the lords under his command had generally not been particularly fond of him. It had been quite an unpleasant journey, with far more snideness from the lords than he would have liked.

He was not royalty, true enough, but honestly, it was as if they had forgotten any decorum and manners. They were all Nobles were they not? Some courtesy should be expected amongst one's peers.

Especially Lord Ryswell, who was still angry after that damned spat he had with Donny's Father some years back.

He had taken great delight in mocking his weariness, as if dressing in actual armor while at war was somehow a bad thing.

Undeserved mockery aside, it had been a relatively peaceful march, with little resistance against the march. Only a few skirmishes, and none of them with more than a hundred men.

The Dreadfort as a military Force was broken. Now only the final blow remained to be struck.

Finally, after a week of marching, they had entered into the heart of the Land of the Flayed man. The great field, an ashen Wasteland roughly half a league all around. Filled with holes from which plumes of black smoke, small and large, bellowed out of the earth. Pools of Sulfur dotted the field, their foul smelling content smelling worse than any recently manured field he had ever smelled.

It was a, blackened, ugly, hostile landscape, which did not lend itself well for a siege, as history had proven many times.

And in the middle of the landscape, as if a massive, black Crown on the Volcanic field, was the Seat of House Bolton.

It had been raised millenia ago, nearly as Old as Winterfell, this monstrosity of a castle stood out compared to any castle Donny had ever seen.

The only castles he had seen which surpassed this monstrosity in size, was Winterfell, and Moat Cailin.

The Dreadfort was unlike either however. Both Moat Cailin and Winterfell were works of construction, of building with blocks of stone. There was some of that here, but the wast majority of this castle was a castle hewn out of a small mountain of Dark smoking stone.

The castle had some later editions, it's higher guard towers, and a couple of tall towers, which had been constructed like sensible castles, but the Castle itself was one huge mass. A giant stone which had been hollowed out and made a fortress out of. It was tall, broad, thick and ugly.

God, it was ugly. The castle was not symmetric at all, places where the original stone had been damaged had been repaired with stone which stood out like a horse in a pony herd. The stones around the fortress had not been carved to make it smooth either, instead looking like the mountain of the area. Rough and unwelcome.

To top the whole thing, from large tall towers, plumes of black smoke rose into the sky, the same

Winterfell was a thing of beauty. The Dreadfort was as if the Fire of the earth had shat out a fortress and men had decided to live there

It had stood against hundreds of assaults, guarded by a dozen massive Ballistas which had made it a fucking pain to prepare for this assault.

More specifically, it had taken 2 days just to get everything set in place for the wall breaking.

27 wall breakers of various sizes, had been prepared, all for one massive burst of destructive fire, which would rip the wall asunder.

He had taken the entire supply the king had made, converted all of the shieldbreakers he had taken with him to wallbreakers, their dragonpowder transferred and pooled into large iron containers.

He was not taking any chances with this assault. If he failed to break the wall, it would be the end of him. If he failed after the king had given him all the resources the army had for this final push, he might as well head up to the wall himself and save himself the trouble.

It would be the loss of royal favor for him, and his house for generations to come. Which would have been devastating enough on it's own, but now that House Dustin had finally struck it big with the Wardship of the Kings Brother and Heir? It would be a devastating blow to lose that wardship, and all the good will that would come with it.

So, he was not taking any chances. The Dreadfort would be turned to dust once all once this was done.

And hey, once he had blown a hole in the walls, he had been given free reign to plunder as he saw fit. The only part of the dreadfort riches he was ordered to secure for his King, was the Gold Coins of the treasury. It might be the more valuable part of the valuables, but it was also miniscule compared to the sheer amounts of silver there would be.

Glory, loot, and him Not losing his head awaited in the morning.

Now he just had to make sure the final part of the preparations went smoothly.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#355

Crown Prince Eddard Bolton stood at the battlements of The Dreadfort, contemplating the way of things.

He had taken to doing this, even before the siege had started, coming up here to ponder on the way everything had gone so wrong, so quickly.

His role while his father was away had been a simple one, rule, mete out justice, keep the peace.

That had been simple, it had been what he had been born and raised to do. There had been a bandit group who had arisen while his father was away fighting the wolves. He had personally dealt with said group and had killed or captured all of them.

Then he had skinned all of them with his own hands. It was a grizzly task, one which he had never been as with as father was, but he had done it. The man who passed the sentence had to swing the sword. Or the flaying knife in this case.

After that, any questions of nonsense rebels and bandits had evaporated into nothing. Sure there had been some smaller crimes to deal with, a few rapists that he had castrated, and a deserter from the Night watch to deal with, but peace had quickly returned, even with the King away.

It had been what it was meant to be. A quiet land, a quiet people, peace and justice, and obedient lords and smallfolk.

Then, with no warning, Stark had smashed his Father in a decisive battle which had completely destroyed the Bolton army almost to a man. Then a six thousand strong army had force marched up from the southern Bridge.

It was the largest enemy force that had ever marched on the dreadfort without an opposing army in the way.

And to face them, he had 87 Men, and the Castle servants and their Families.

It was a bad situation. Really, Really bad.

Not only was he outnumbered by… Well not hundred to one, but the number differences was so large it didn't really make any matter. They would storm the castle, he had no doubt, and even if they did not, the situation was not good for a siege either.

They had stocked up what they could, but the majority of the farms around the dreadfort was unharvested and unburned. There had simply not been enough time to either harvest the fields, nor burn the land around the fort. The wolves would be able to feast on his lands for months if they wished.

He had given the order to the smallfolk to evacuate to overton, but the gods only knew how many had heard before the gates had closed, how many would listen to the order, and how many poor farmers would be butchered by the wolves unaware that the army was here.

There was nothing he could do for the small folk bow in any case. Now he could only hold, and hope to weather the coming storm.

It still stung to know they would be at the wolves mercy. Tales of sea dragon Point had danced through his dreams, nightmares of a genocidal march across the dreadfort lands plaguing his nights.

Surely it would not come to that, right? This new Brandon was the son of Jon the Law, not of Rickard Stark the Childbane.

Surely the man who followed the letter of law to perfection, would have taught his son to respect the laws of War.

He was brought out of his musings, by the sounds of someone coming up the stairs. The painting of a child made it clear it could only be one culprit, and sure enough, as he turned to look, it was his little sister Arya, climbing up the stairs, one step at a time.

The little girl was dressed as befit a princess, fine pink wool, and a bronze circlet around her head.

She looked a lot like their mother, Sansa Hornwood, who had died in the Winter along with so many others. Long black hair, a smaller yhan average nose, but there was a lot from their father as well. The standard bolton Face, and the Chilling Blue eyes of their House being the most obvious.

Usually she had a cheerful expression on her face, always laughing and playing pranks on the Castle folk.

Now though, she had a far more worried and bothered look, as she went and lifted herself up to peer over the Walls.

The look of her hanging on the curtain wall was a sight which usually brought a smile to his face. Usually it meant he was looking and waiting for father to return from somewhere.

Father… He had no illusions about what had happened to him. If the Bolton Host had been killed to a man, then they would not leave the King of the Dreadfort alive.

That was not a thought to share with Arya however.

"So many…" Arya stared out across the fields towards the Enemy Camps. His eyes followed her in the dimming light.

"Yeah, that's a lot of men."

He knew from what scout reports roughly how many men the enemy had, but truth be told, they seemed far more than that. There were hundreds upon hundreds of torches being lit in the darkening light and campfires cooking the soldiers evening meals.

Every single man in the army would be swarming his walls. The gate could not be taken by a ram, but they would swarm the walls with ladders and keep pushing until they broke.

The dradforts walls were massive and tall, but they were not so tall they could not be scaled. It had stood against the hardest and toughest assaults before. But always with at least a few hundred to defend it. The walls had been built so that you needed at least 150 men to defend it effectively, lesser than that, and it was much harder to man every single part of it. Which they would need to. If a single ladder crew got a foothold, that would be the end.

"We will win right? You'll beat them, won't you Brother?" Arya had let go of the ledge and was now looking up at him pleadingly.

He ruffled her hair in a comforting manner.

"Of course we'll win. This Castle has never fallen, ever. It won't fall this time either little sister.

She didn't seem too comforted by that gesture, but she did nodd, then scampered off along the wall, probably to talk to some of the men as she usually did.

He had always envied that. The way she could just talk to the men, and just chat without feeling the pressure of them judging you for everything they felt lacking. He certainly had never been able to to do that.

The men who served here, loved him and his sister, but they had never respected him. His father had certainly never let him forget that. The weak link he had always called him.

"Respect, is the baseline for any ruler worth anything Eddard. He can be a tyrant, just, greedy, kind, or just an all around arse. So long as his people an enemies respect him though, it doesn't matter, he can do his job. If they don't…"

At that point his father would then go over the long list of failed King of the Dreadfort.

He could fight as well as any man, and he could do justice. But he had never been able to just make men respect him just by his presence.

He had never been able to make the men who followed him fear him. Not even when he skinned Bandits for their crimes. The men of the fort simply knew him too well,and had made up their minds long ago.

Right now, that didn't matter though. All that mattered was the arrows, readied, and the ballistas being ready to fire at any advancing force.

If he couldn't keep everyone alive, their views on him would not matter in the long run.

As he turned back to the enemy army, it took him a few seconds before he realised that something was going on.

He grabbed for his horn, but one of the other men on the wall blew before he could. The sound of men jumping to their feet and the clanking of armor below as everyone got ready, replaced the quiet silence of two days like a bolt of lightning.

The enemy was finally beginning their assault.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

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Oct 13, 2019

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#369

The first wave came across the plains, pherhaps hoping the coming darkness would mask their approach and siege ladders.

If so they were wrong.

The first volleys flew with the regular force Ballistas had, the siwge weapons hammering their long shafts into the incomming troops like a nail through sand. Dozens fell, as the large arrows fell amongst them, with enough force to kill the men it hit, then the men behind them as well.

It wouldnt be enough. Not on it's own.

The ballistas were a new invention, their design having been "Borrowed" by Andal invaders taken as thralls some 60 years back, before his grandfather and old King Rickard Stark had signed the treaty which outlawed thralldom once and for all in the North.

Immensely powerful machines, but not quick to set new arrows. Not like bows were.

The Machines reloaded painfully slow(at least it seemed like it did to Eddard. Had they always been this slow to reload?) before the next rounds were fired. More dozens fell. The Stark troops approached quickly, leaving their fallen comrades to be trampled underfoot.

Gods there was many of them. It seemed like almost the entire host was on the march. Dozens of ladders in the first row. More behind.

The third volley hit.

There would only be time for one more he saw. They didnt have the men to both hold the wall and hit the army with more rounds when the ladders were set.

"Lyanna! Wheres the damned Oil?!" He halfways shouted and halfway screamed down to the courtyard.

"It's Coming Boy, just be patient!" Old Lyanna Merda yelled back at him.

A dozen pots had been heated in the boling room for days, all awaiting this moment, but they needed to be transferred to other less red burning pots if they were to be carries up on the walls.

That would be the womens work. The men were all on the walls. Everyone had to carry their weight if they were to live through this battle.

The archers began to loose thei arrows all around him, in between the "Teeth" of the battlements.

As expected, no ram had been contructed to try and batter down the gate. The Starks had long ago learned that such simple tactics did not work on the dreadfort. In between the two gates at entrance, there was a massive drop, which was covered by a wooden floor, which could be wheeled away by mechanisms into a sideroom in times of sieges.

It was a simplistic defence, but no less effective for that.

Thus, the ladders. The walls were too tall for grappling hooks, but not the age old and simple siege ladder.

If you had enough men to effectively man the walls, the fortress could, and had stood against the toughest of storms. But he didn't have enough men or women to do that.

He would just have to do without.

The final ballista volley was fired. More wolves were hit, more men died, but the tidal wave of charging men could not be stopped so easily.

For him, it was as if the world suddenly slowed, as he saw the first ladders being lifted into the air, then it's arch as it was maneuvered to slam into the walls.

If he had a magic sword of legend like the Starks did, he could simply have cleaved the top of the bridge and watch as the rest fell down. Alas he didnt have any such, so he simply had to do the old way, and joined alongside Earless Jon and Young Dick, and began hammering away with axes.

Not exactly the preferred honorguard of a prince, but he didn't have enough men to spare any of them. Everyone was spread out across the walls.

The preferred strategy would have been to topple it, but as expected the damn thing was far too heavy to do that easily. He saw a couple down the wall which were toppled before too many men came up it and added to the weight.

He really needed that oil. The first man who came up got an axe blow to the head. Same with the second and third. Then dick took an arrow to the face with sich blow, that his brain blew out the back of his head and the helmet was thrown out behind him into the courtyard.

He felt numb, as he saw the corpse of dick jerk, as it collapse backwards on the battlements.

He heard a shrill scream right behind him and below, but he didnt turn back to see down the yard. He had to focus on the men coming up. Focus on the defence. Grieve later. Fight now.

The fifth one up the ladder managed to Dodge Eddard's axe and tried to stab him in the face with a sword. It was a awkward strike though and he easily dodged as he tried again to cleave his skull in twain.

He missed the intended target, but the blow hit the shoulder of the arm he used to hold himself upright, and with a violent flinching, he lost his grip and tumbled with a scream, down into the mass of men below.

Clammering from behind, and a sudden heat struck him, through his mail, and he quickly turned to see two women with a large pot between them, filled with a boiling substance. More were following up the steps.

"Out of the way" He scremed at earless Jon, who hadnt noticed the women with the pots. He quickly turned to look, then hasitly jumped out of the way of the women.

The two ladies ran foreward, and with a heave of strenght, they lifted the pots over and pored it down the ladder and unto the Stark men.

Screams, the likes of which he had only heard from men being skinned alive, came up from below the outside of the walls.

More women came up the stairs and hurried down the castle wall, the screams of other men in horrid agony joined the ones below him as pots of burning oil was thrown down every ladder.

There was cheers, some more ladders being toppled. More arrows loosened from the walls, arrows from below as well, manh hitting the teeth, but few finding flesh.

Then screams from behind. He snapped his head in that direction, just in time to see a couple of women being thrown from the battlements down into the courtyard.

A ladder far to the right on the wall had been left unprotected as the men guarding it had been killed by arrows, and now men were climbing up on the wall.

Before he managed to think, he was moving, quickly picking up speed as he charged. The men first up on the walls, that had defenestrated the women was attacking the men protecting the ladders on their sides.

He came upon them like an avalanche. The first man did not see what hit him as he buried his axe in the man's neck. The crunch of broken bones resonated beneath the mail. He quickly ripped the axe back and hammered it into the next man's leg, ripping flesh and cleaving the bone.

The man screamed, which was quickly cut short as he unsheathed his dagger with his free hand, and buried in his face.

The third man was fighting one of his own men, and tried to hold off both him and Eddard at the same time. It quickly ended with a hammer in his head.

He moved on to the next. The ladder itself was unguarded and another man came climbing up, an old grizzled man with a massive beard and a… Red Thing on his black surcoat. Eddard lifted his axe to bury it in the man's head, the man saw, and faster than one would believe from a man of an older age, he sprang forward over the teeth, and tackled Eddard to the ground.

They barely managed to avoid falling down over the edge. Eddard could feel his head was out over the edge, as he and the older man struggled. He had lost the axe in the fall, so he tried to bury his dagger in the man's side, but without weight behind it, he couldn't manage to pierce the mail. A hand shot down around his wrist and twisted.

His wrist flared in pain, and the knife fell from his grasp.

Suddenly the weight of the man was gone, or rather, it was wretched away from him.

A Bolton man had tackled the man off him and then(successfully) buried a knife in the man's side. Then the man had buried his own knife in the mans face, and tumbled him over the edge.

As he staggered to his feet, fumbling for, and finding his axe along the way, he saw with a sinking feeling that the knife wound was only shallow, and hadn't punched far into the mail.

The old man rose to his feet as he did, both with their weapons at the ready, as more men came climbing up their side, and more bolton men came scrambling from the side to prevent a full breach.

Then the man yelled in pain, and toppled over belly first on the wall floor.

Eddard blinked. Then he noticed no less than a dozen arrows sticking out of the man's back, or his left leg. Every single archer behind the man had turned on the break, and had chosen him as their first target. More arrows followed, and hit other men climbing over.

Other men came running to physically contain the breach. He joined those and kept pace, and returned to slaughtering the wolves as they kept climbing up.

More ladders were thrown, more arrows hit home on both sides, more men screamed in pain.

It lasted for mayhaps a quarter of an hour more past that, before the wave finally broke. By that point he was more exhausted than he had ever felt in his life. His entire body hurt, his lungs burned, an arrow had lodged itself in his arm, but thankfully the mail had mostly stopped it. As the wolves were retreating back to their camp, Maester Ramsay was treating his rolled up arm, as all around the men cheered.

There was maybe 20 dead on their side. In comparison, there were hundreds of Stark corpses outside of his walls. They were clustered around the ladders in heaps, the wolves having left them there as they retreated.

"How bad is it?" Tom the Houndsmaster asked.

"It should be fine, Provided he keeps it clean and doesn't exasperate it."

"Not familiar with that word of wise bald one." Tom replied with a grin. Ramsay rolled his eyes.

"Exasperate, worsen something, make it worse, take a bad situation and fuck it even more."

"Should be fine then. The wolves are beaten." The Houndmasters optimism was sad really, he had never been a military man. He didnt understand tactics, and the dire situation they were in despite this victory. The wolves could attack 10 times, and as long as they won once, they would succeed. In comparison, they only needed one time to go really, really badly, and it would all be over.

Eddard, the captain of the guard snorted.

"Beaten dogmaster? This was just a skirmish, a test of how many defenders we have. The next blow will be harder, and with more will behind it."

He looked over the teeth and across the field where the wolves were returning to their camps.

"They'll be back. And when they come, we need to be ready."

He looked down on prince Eddard.

"We can't afford to lose you laid, but neither can we afford to keep you out the battle. The men need the morale seeing their prince.

He nodded tiredly. They talked like that a lot. Discussions about how to go forward, but also waiting for his input on it. As if he had any. He should inout he knew. But… He just didn't know what to say, other than just repeating what everyone else said.

It was one of the most frustrating thing he had ever experienced. He was in command here, so why the fuck did he have so much problems speaking his mind. He had never had this problem when father was here. As prince he would speak his mind and add his thoughts on things.

Now that he was in command, he second guessed his every word before he said them.

He got to his feet, and managed to get out that the men on watch would need to keep guard for any surprise night attacks as he made his way back the courtyard.

Needed or not he had to sleep. There would be another attack on the morrow he had no doubt. And the day after that. He would need to have some of the women equip weapons and armor and fight on the walls he realised. Their number of defenders had to be replenished for the next battle.

Women fighting with arms in hand. How queer.

The castle slept in the courtyard now. Everyone, even him. They didn't have time in case another attack came to sally out of their barracks, so everyone was ready. People were eating, sleeping and cleaning themselves and so on, all on in the yard.

Well, except the children, they were in the crypts for safety.

He had speculated whether he should escape through there. There were escape tunnels from the dreadfort of course. 3 in fact.

He could take Arya, the men, with as much gold as everyone could carry, and then leave in the night.

If he was going with that olan, he needed to do it tonight. Before everyone's morale and ability to run was destroyed by days of fighting.

It would be the end though. If the Army had truly been destroyed, then this castle was the only thing keeping the kingdom of the dreadfort alive. If it fell…

It was the main reason he had not done it. That and a pride and love for this Castle which it physically hurt to consider abandoning it to the Starks.

He was making the trek across the field, when the air burst to pieces along with roughly one fourth of the wall.

Donny was watching, when the fire arrow flew, and the southern part of the Dreadforts mighty walls was engulfed in destructive fire. The sight(and sound) was truly something to behold. So large, it made the shieldbreakers look like a torch compared to the sun.

He had of course been covering his ears, as had most men in the army. They all knew what was coming.

Well, the lords did, and their elited. He doubted he would have gotten the smallfolk to charge the walls if he had told them they would only serve as a distraction while they placed the Wallbreakers.

Still, the order had been called to let everyone know that in spite of the walls failed attack, the Wallbreakers had been set, and they would blow up the walls.

It was a shame, throwing away so. Many lives, but it was necessary. He had to keep the focus away from the siege weapons while they were being planted. One single fire arrow could ruin the entire plan. Hence he had kept the pressure on the walls by forcing all the focus on the ladders.

Then the retreat had been blown, and they had regrouped far enough away that they didn't need to fear pieces of boulders falling down and killing them.

Now the final stage of the plan came. Regroup so all the elites were at front, and charge the southern part of the walls, where there now was a massive gap after the 30 wallbreakers had been detonated by a crannogman with a fire arrow.

He wondered if he would manage to capture the Prince and princess of blood as well. The king had made it clear that he wanted both alive as possible, but the truly important thing was to make sure they did not escape. Hence this immediate assault now, rather than wait for the morrow.

Crush them when they were weak and confused on the ground.

With Axe in hand, he would Strike the killing blow and finish house Bolton forever.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Oct 13, 2019

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#405

Arya Bolton was having a very bad night.

She was filthy, covered in dust and mud, her pink surcoat now being a shade of gray. She was also barely alive, after narrowly avoiding being crushed by a large section of the catacombs suddenly caving in. In terms of harm she was mostly unharmed, if shaking in a way she simply couldn't calm herself over.

Well, she did have a resounding pain in her skull from where a small rock had hit her from the cave in.

Well, there was also everyone around her dying. That was very bad as well.

Arya was used to death. Father had taken her with him when he ripped the guts out of criminals since she was 7. She had seen the flayed skin of men hanged by the castle Gate her entire life.

She had seen far worse things than the crushed remains of people under stone.

Yet… Yet somehow this sight shook her far more than any execution, any aftermath of flayings she had witnessed, had ever done.

Little Betta had been crushed in half, her lower body haven been smashed by a rock, the guts and blood poking out where the stone had obliterated Betta's lower half.

She had screamed and sobbed so hard, lit by the torches on the wall.

Arya had not been able to do anything for her, other than hold her hands as she cried. She'd cried too. Father would have been displeased by that. A royal Princess should not be disturbed by blood or death he had always said, as he ripped out the guts of prisoners to harden her and Eddard.

She had been down in the catacombs, waiting out the battle with the other children and a few old men and women too old to participate in the battle.

She had been walking with Betta, cheerfully showing her the statues of her ancestors. When the ceiling came down she had been at old Queen Bethany Bolton, the Bloody Judge. She had always been a favorite of Arya's. She had begun the custom of making Lordly seats out of the skins of Lords who did not follow the law.

That way, their sons would always remember the price for not respecting royal justice. It was a cheerful tale of truth and justice prevailing, and she had always enjoyed it. Then in the middle of telling Bethany about it, the ceiling had dropped down.

The screams of everyone else dying had echoed between the rocks, distorted and haunting, but they had stilled now. Just like Betta.

Eventually, she had managed to rip herself from Betta's body, and began the trek down the catacombs. The tears on her cheeks, annoyed her. Father would be displeased.

She tried to steady herself, as she walked down the corridor. She had a pouch of gold, and a torch, which wouldn't last forever.

She had tried to find another path to the exit back to the castle, but that was hopeless. The entire section vad caved in to some degree. There were a couple of holes, but not something she could ever squeeze through. She would have to go through the escape tunnel then.

That meant a walk for hours, then having to sneak her way back through the lines, to the castle gate without being spotted by the wolves or shot by the castle defenders. Something for later. For now she walked down the corridors where her ancestors slept.

After 3 weeks, The King finally arrived at the dreadfort in grand style, being pulled in an impressive, if strange looking wagon, with some rather unusual looking looking wheels. Unlike other wheels Donny had seen in his life, it was not one single piece of wood, or two pieces nailed together, but instead it was made up of two wooden rings, with tree bars between them holding it together.

Knowing the king's rather impressive ability to innovate, there was probably some deeper reason beyond appearance behind the wheel. Personally, he thought it looked somewhat fragile and queer, but he had no plans saying that to King Brandon.

You jested with your king. You did not criticize him to his face.

Not to mention that being on bent knee would have somewhat diminished the effect of criticism anyway.

After the King came the lord's which had remained behind. The crannogmen, the lords of bear island and some lords from directly around winterfell.

After stopping, the king made some motion with a device, and a small wooden stairway lowered down on the ground from the carriage opening.

The man leaned heavily on a cane as he descended, but other than that, he seemed in good spirits. The cheerful smile he wore as he took in the Dreadfort spoke of a man who had just been granted a truly stunning gift.

He couldn't help but watch the Kings bad leg as he stepped down unto the ground. The way it…. moved, the way the king flinched whenever he put weight on it. It was disturbing in a way, that bloody wounds were not(at least not in the waking world). This was wrong. A king should not be like this.

Especially not one such as this, a brilliant monarch in the prime of his life. Cut down by a stray arrow. A full and promising life cut down in an instant. Any enjoyment of life outside his hold broken and destroyed forever. He would never be able to hunt, nor fight, nor ride again. What worth did a life without any of that have?

It would be a lacking life, one without true passion in it.

"Lord Dustin!" The king exclaimed heartily, in a loud voice that was more than loud enough for all in the courtyard to hear.

"I see the capture of the Black Fortress of Doom went well."

Donny shook himself back to reality and quickly answered.

"Yes my Magnar, we crushed the garrison with ease and captured the Prince as you commanded. Do you wish to see him right away?"

The king gave a dismissing wave of the hand. "Later mayhaps, for now i wish to have an overview of the dreadfort, by your hand. But first…"

The king raised his voice much louder as he continued.

"Let no man say that the Son of Jon the Law was no ring giver. Lord Dustin, for your Service in bringing down the Kingdom of the Dreadfort, I Brandon Stark, King in the North, award House Dustin and the town of Barrowton, a City Charter."

Donny stopped breathing for a moment.

The king said something more about the dreadfort and a new age, but Donny scarcely heard a word he said, before he remembered where he was, and forced himself out of his shock.

Acting like a simpleton was not going to endear him to The King of the North.

"So the Girl is Dead then? You're sure of that?"

I had settled my lords inside the old seat of house Bolton, and made some preparations for later that day. For one, i had arranged a meeting with Lord Ryswell for after i had gotten a full briefing from Dustin. I had to not only mend the wound that was starting to fester, i also had to heal it and make him like me if possible.

For now though i needed to talk to Dustin and get all the various pieces of information that the messages had not conveyed fully.

"Aye my Magnar, the Catacombs collapsed when we broke the wall. According to all the ones who survived the sack, the Princess was in them alongside the rest of the children and some older women."

I sighed. Well, so much for any hope of some magnominity and mercy on the part of the conquered.

Full blown right of conquest it would be.

"Regretable, but nothing we can do about it now."

I leaned back in the main chair house bolton had for the Red Kings Solar. To be honest, i was expecting this room to be far more gruesome than it had turned out to be. Rather than the carvings of dead or flayed men, or anything commemorating Bolton success through history, it was instead a Spartan chamber full of books(or rather scrolls, as the books of this era actually were. I really needed to invent the book spine.) chairs, a large table and blank walls.

It wasn't too different than my own solar back at winterfell to be honest. The Boltons were northmen, and a Spartan way of life was in their blood, as much as it was in my own.

"Have there been any response from the rest of the west?"

Dustin gave a shrug.

"Some. I sent the messages you asked, and there have been some who bent the knee."

"Well, sent messages claiming they would do so anyway. No hostages have arrived yet, but that's to be expected. It'll take some time before they would arrive in any case. The only wards we've got so far are the ones from the local lords directly around the dreadfort. After the castle fell, not a single one refused your claim as King."

Well, the six thousand strong army also undoubtedly had something to do with that.

"So, who of the lords who actually matter have replied they would bend the knee?"

Dustin grinned.

"Well good news is that two of the Boltons biggest Vassals went over. House Frost was amongst the more agreeable Lords. He's apparently coming here, along with a grandson to serve as you guest. Second son of his heir."

"Not as good as the second in line, but i'll take it. And the second large house is…?"

"Overton. And the house isn't coming over. They're dead. Turns out all the three living members went with Royce for the Battle of the Bloody Hill. The castellan however sent his offer of fealty and will await the new lord, whoever that may be."

Well, that… Was unexpected, but i suppose it shouldn't have been? I had wiped out a generation at the Battle of the Bloody Hill. Probably countless, smaller elite families had perished there, and some lordly ones.

Overton itself was… A port town? It was situated at the mouth of the Weeping Water, so basically a second rate version of house Manderly of white harbour. Still, it was a port town. And one of decent size. I could turn that to a city. Probably.

"Well, they'll have to wait a while then. Richard is still way too young to rule in his own right."

I would need to send a letter along with some couple hundred men to secure the town for whoever i sent to administrator it.

If Dustin was interested in or suprised hearing his ward would be getting a lordship, he didn't show it.

"Any other houses we have word of has perished?"

"A number actually, mostly Masters or Landed elites. 4 other lordly houses, of smaller rank. White Hill, Wells, Moss and Windblown."

I had no idea who any of those houses were.

"Well, it's good to know where we stand. Hornwood has not bent the knee?"

"No. There's been no reply at all from the moose."

Great, so i would need to send an army down there to bully him into bending.

I sighed.

"Well, i'll go over the full list of all the minor holds that need new leadership later. For now, what was the stature of the Bolton treasury.

"47 234 Gold Coins or so my magnar. And from my estimation, there was around 1 million silver coins, which we divided up amongst ourself as you allowed."

He put a very special emphasis on Allowed, as if he was worried i would be pissed at my own bad hindsight.

Maybe letting the men have free loot of the silver treasury might not have been the best move, but given i couldn't take the dreadfort myself, plundering was inevitable.

Still, that was a pretty bad loss. But given i had around 3 million silver pieces in my own treasury at winterfell, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Who knows, maybe my lords having some cash for their own would be a good thing.

The gold was much more important. Both to get my hands on the most valuable metal, and to remint them in my own image. I needed the bolton Gold Crown out of the economy and replaced by the Golden Wolf of Stark.

Also, i needed more gold period. I wasn't an expert in economy, but having Gold coins be as outnumbered by silver as much as it was, couldn't be a good thing.

If the maesters estimates were right, the north had over the course of 2200 years minted a total of about 7 million silver pieces total and only a measly 120 000 gold pieces.

As the one percent of the one percent i controlled a ridiculously huge part of that economy by default. Add in the Starks spartan lifestyle, and you had about 30 years of yearly revenue that had never been wasted on frivolities. I might not be as rich as the Lannisters, but i was still filthy, filthy rich.

I would use that wealth wisely in the coming period.

Now i just needed to get the remainder of this mop up operation over with, and i could head home to get this Project truly going.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Nov 2, 2019

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Kingofwinter

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Nov 3, 2019

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#420

-Poll Time-

alright, so im going to go into overdrive in the next couple of weeks to finish the remainder of part 1 as quickly as i can.

after that, as ive said earlier, this story will be going on hiatus for some time, until ive finished my first novel. however, this does not mean that i will not be active at this site. i will also be taking some time to write a much more fast paced SI ASOIAF story here. it wont be updated as fast as age of marvels(generally once a week unless something delays it on my end), but on the other hand, it will also have much longer chapters. so maybe 10k-15k words every month/month and a half. that way, it should be much easier for me to balance it with my proffesional writing.

however, where the poll comes in, is that ive actually got three entirerly different story ideas. and ill let you guys decide which one ill be going with.

Choice 1.

Black Powder and Black Dragons.

An american firearms expert wakes up in the body of one Daemona from Myr, a Natural born daughter of Maelys the monsterous. Through the invention of a relatively advanced firearm, she wins her fathers attention, as well as legitimization in the years leading up to the formation of the Band of The Nine. As the the only recognized child of Maelys she plays a large role in the reformation of the golden company, and the war that in one era would be known as the War of the Ninepenny Kings. In this time, it will be knows as the Blackfyre restoration, as The First Queen of Westeros takes the throne from a feeble Jaeharys, and remakes the lands of the West into one of Steel, canals, trains and explosions.

Choice 2.

Aenys, King of Dreams.

A Dutch historian who's field is the victorian era, wakes up in the Body of Aenys the First of his name, son of Aegon the First, in the final days leading up the death of Westeros First Monarch, and the crowning of the second. in the years that followed, many will say that Aegon the Dragon might have united Westeros, but it was Aenys, the King of Dreams, who made them one. His reign will see him reconquer land from the sea, found the Royal Army of Westeros, and bring The Sunset Lands into an age of steel and Steam.

Choice 3.

Rhaenyra the Remade.

An swedish teacher wakes up in the body of Rhaenyra Targaryen two days before the message of the death of king viserys and the treason of Aegon the usurper. With the tactical knowledge of what the greens will do first, the course of the dance takes a drasticly different turn. Winning the war however, is just the a prelude to the true challenge of remaking Westeros, as well as fixing Rhaenya's decidedly smeared reputation. in the years that follow, westeros will forms its first standing army, the rivers of all the nation's lands are remade into forges, and Westeros begins its first school system.

the poll will be open for a bit below two weeks, and will close on the 15th.

Last edited: Nov 3, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Nov 4, 2019

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#444

The Castle of Winterfell was a flurry of activity. Serving Men and women both ran around st rapid pace to fulfill errands large and small. Men at arms were carrying in meat they had been busy hunting for for the last week. Banners were raised,

All had work to do to prepare for their Kings homecoming. After almost 4 months away, Brandon was finally coming home. And what more was, he brought home with him a victory the Likes of which the Kingdom had not seen in Centuries.

The Kingdom of the dreadfort had been broken, and the king had annexed all the eastern lands into his domain. And thus, the time of Kingdoms of Winter and all the others that had challenged it had come to an end.

There was now only one King in the land, The King in the North. The king of Winter. Brandon Stark.

Tom the Maester, was feeling rather queer about the whole affair.

Oh, he was happy brandon had triumphed and was coming home alive. Very happy.

But he was also worried about the lad. Something was wrong here. And he dearly wished he knew what.

It had all started with the Illness. A week long battle with a fever that had almost killed the young king. Then he had woken up, and possessed knowledge which had baffled the old maester beyond words.

It wasn't that the boy had suddenly gained wit. He had always been intelligent. Unlike his siblings, he possessed a good head on his shoulders. Whereas Rickard and Sansa had always struggled to learn their letters, and utterly failed to ever learn anything from the andal tongue, Brandon had achieved both with easy at a remarkable young age.

He had comprehended the Law, which his father had always taken such joy in, at the age of 12.

He had always been clever boy. But what Brandon had displayed in the months after the fever… That was not cleverness. It was a sheer maddening brilliance and total confidence in his designs.

The Boy, Knew his ideas would work. And even with that, Tom. Could have rationalized away most of it. The inventions the king had made, simple and complicated, were all based on on the way the natural laws worked. He had seen his share of inventions and theories back in the south, and while effective, he could have seen many of them being invented at the citadel by younger more enthusiastic students.

But then there was things like the magical dragon powder, a masterwork of alchemy the likes of which he had never seen, the king's recipe for paper which had turned out to be superior to anything he had ever seen in all his years, and then there was the ludicrously intricate machinery of his farming tools.

All of which far surpassed anything that could reasonably be guessed at. To achieve these things, the king must have experimented to find the result.

Except he didn't. At all.

He had seemingly just known about them after the sickness passed.

There was no rational explanation for the King's knowledge. Which had lead him to look for supernatural explanations.

The first thought he had had, was that Brandon had begun the journey of a greenseer.

Some of the books he had unrolled and read on the subject lined up somewhat with that. Old king Richard had feared and hated magic, but he had not burned texts on them, as often was done in The lands of the Seven.

"To defeat the monsters, you must know their nature." He had once told Tom on the subject back when he was young, and had just arrived in this land.

So, he had looked through what texts Winterfell had on the subject.

According to several of the old texts, the journey of a greenseer always began with some great injury which nearly brought about death.

This would "Open their third Eye." Which was what the old sorcerers of the Green kingdom had called the metaphysical link between the body and the realm of dreams, spirits and so on. He knew many of his fellow maesters regarded magic as Hogwash, but it was real enough, and deadly. One should learn all one could on the subject, both to safeguard against it, and to learn how to harness it if one so desired.

The greenseer theory seemed the most likely. There were several holes in it though.

According to the texts, the appearance of such abilities would happen over time after the awakening, never all at once. Also, the ability to discern the future from dreams was a strange and imprecise art, one which. Most who achieved failed to master.

The young Lady Sansa was an exception to that, but whenever he had tried discussed the matter with King Jon, the Law would turn cold as the most bitter of winters and told him to drop the conversation. He had not liked the idea that his daughter might fit in under the Warg category which would have demanded she be left out to die.

As for Brandon, he had always found the idea of foretelling the future in dreams preposterous, and had always laughed at the concept.

Either way, his newfound knowledge seemed Far too accurate to be the result of the dreams the books described.

There were other problems beyond the magical holes as well. His personality changes for one.

While the texts described such changes to the Temperament of Emerging greenseers, they generally fit into one of two categories. The first was that of a long and hard bout of melancholy, which often never went away. The second was simply going mad, often in violent angry ways.

Brandon did not fit either category.

He had changed alright, but not nearly as drastic in temperament as the books suggested.

It wasnt that Brandon was a different person now, rather… A lot of his traits had intensified.

He had been fond of bathing. While still at the castle, he had gotten a bath prepared for him each morning.

He had liked to drink. Now he mainly drank light and clean mead as opposed to water.

He had always been fond of Harren. Now he had begun to treat the soldier as his Right hand man.

There was more like that, changes that were drastic, but one who had not known the King before might not now recognize the changes as something different than what had come before.

He was still a man who put on a forced smile and let others talk while he listened, he still preferred to dine alone in peace, he still liked a job well done.

Tom was not sure what to make of it.

In the end, he had decided it didn't matter. He would still serve, as he was sworn to do.

For the duration of the Campaign, his job had been to try and make the designs Brandon had left him work. Some had been amazing successes. Some had been dismal failures. And some just needed a bit of hammering out the kinks.

Winterfell was the first thing i saw in the distance as we Finally reached The end of our journey. After that, winter town also came into Sight.

The host had greatly diminished in size from when it had left this town, as most had now begun the arduous journey back home. Still, it was roughly a thousand men strong still. Most remaining being the retinues of lords who had decided to stick around for the recoronation rather than go home first and the levies from my own lands.

We made up a pretty decent procession as we marched into wintertown. The current population was roughly 5000 people or so, and it seemed pretty much the entire town had come out to cheer for the returning army.

I had left this town seated on horseback, and i returned on a black carriage. It certainly wasn't the prettiest carriage in the world, it was far more bulky than the victorian era carriages i had recalled as i designed it. But i preferred the bulky look. It didn't make it look so silly, and instead gave more an impression of strength. At least i really hoped it did.

I really hoped me coming in on the carriage didnt make me look psthetic. I had considered a chariot(Hell, two of my lords had actually offered to lend me one for this moment. Why they had them, was something i had not inquired on.) but i had declined. In large part due to the leg still hurting, especially when i stood up for longer periods.

Well, whether i looked pathetic, silly or impressive, the townsfolk still cheered, and they cheered Loudly. We were after all the victorious heroes, returning home from vanquishing the great evil of the east. The kingdom of winter had not seen large scale military victories since the day of my Grandfather.

So,as i rolled through Winter town, my ears were assaulted by cheers and cries of "Stark". If this was more modern times, there would doubtless be many banners of the direwolf being Flown about.

For my own part, i did what all good politicians would do in my situation, i planted a big smile on my face, and i waved to the crowd.

Something way simpler to do when not riding a horse.

Finally, we neared the end of the journey. As winter town abruptly gave way to massive stone walls.

The walls of Winterfell. The gate was unsurprisingly open and the drawbridge down. It would have been a real embarrassment for my Steward if it was not.

As i crossed the bridge, and finally went through the inner gate i saw the sight as i expected. It was pretty much the royal arrival at winterfell scene from Game of Thrones episode 1 if it had been filmed at a book accurate castle.

About 70 people stood waiting for me. And that wasn't even counting the guards on the walls, all of which looked wearily at the unfamiliar men and women following me.

As my driver finally brought the Carriage to a stop, and i began to lower the steps, my personal elites began to flow past me on one side, either to head to the garrison, or to take up their positions at the walls. The noble part of my entourage however, all went began to stop somewhere behind my carriage, waiting for me to speak to my people.

As i stepped down, the first people i noticed, was of course Tom, Sansa and my personal steward, Edric Claw(Of the Northern Claws, not to be confused with the claws of Crackclaw Point) who stood out as the three in charge here.

Sansa as the nominal Stark in Winterfell, Edric as the guy i had left running the Kingdom while i was at war, and Tom, who had gotten FAR more responsibility than a maester was supposed to have. Not that anyone knew the full extent of what he had been doing. Hopefully.

"King Brandon, Gods it's good to see you man."

Edric's smile was genuine and passionate. Then as i stepped down and my handicap became obvious, his smile turned to complete shock and horror, as usual was, he looked down at my leg as if it was the most horrible thing ever. Well, unlike most he had far less subtlety to be honest. He looked completely devastated.

All around, i saw and heard the crowd murmuring amongst themselves. It would seem the full extent of my injuries had not been spread to everyone.

"I'm glad to see you're taking it so well, Edric. One might think having Destroyed the Boltons was not a feat worth celebrating the way you look."

His jaw snapped back into place. "I'm Sorry Brandon i was just-"

"It's just a leg Edric." I cut him off.

"I can still walk. And even if i couldn't, one leg is a measly price to pay for a united North."

"Yes." He said Quickly. "As you say our Magnar."

I sighed, what a great way to be welcomed home. And in front of all my household, a good chunk of my nobility and all my new wards.

"Well, Edric, i was going to ask you for a report on how things have been going in my absence. But we can discuss that later. For now, you will escort my Noble guests-" I waved towards the crowd of my Nobles and wards.

"To their chambers, and see to that their needs are all met. I shall speak with you later."

He nodded quickly. He understood the dismissal. I'm sure it wasn't proper, but i didn't want to spoil my homecoming with more ableism in front of my vassals.

So, as Edric quickly moved to guide the Nobles, i made my steps to the other two who had come to greet me.

Tom gave a polite nod, and a "My Magnar" and stepped aside, presumably to give me more room to speak to Sansa alone.

She looked up at me with the Neutral expression that was her way.

"You're not dead i see."

I actually laughed.

"Sorry to disappoint you." I got out, while i was still chuckling.

She cocked her head.

"My dreams were Wrong. Curious."

"Well, no one can be right All the time. It would make for a pretty dull life.

I grinned. Well, that certainly brightened up. My mood.

"By the way, you should know that the flayed Princess escaped the sack alive."

Aaaand there is went straight downhill again.

"Of fucking course she did." I massaged my Temples, in frustration.

Yet one more thing to deal with. I couldn't just be rid of the Boltons no. They refused to just keel over and die. Like fucking cockroaches.

Well, it was yet another thing i had to deal with down the road.

I sighed as i let go of my temples. I reached over and rubbed Sansa's hair, in a gentle way.

"Well regardless, i'm glad to see you again sister. Forgive me if i dont bend down for a hug at the moment i'm a bit… Stiff in the leg."

"I understand. I'll see you at the feast Brother."

Then as she liked to do, she began the trek over to the godswood.

I eyed Tom, but decided to get the rest of the people away before i talked to him.

So i did just that.

After giving a speech to the assembled castlefolk, and getting them to disperse, i had taken Tom to the pool, far away from listening eyes.

Seeing the pool bubbling again and the warmth emanating from it was a breath of fresh air from endless lukewarm campaign days.

Only when i was sure we were alone did i begin to talk in earnest.

"So, how has it been going here really?

"Well enough, it has been the usual way it is at war. People worrying that their loved ones will not come home, prayers for your victory. Life going on as it always does. The usual."

Well that was all well and good. But it wasn't what i had wanted to know.

"And my plans and designs? How many of them worked out?"

That was the crux of the matter. I needed to know what had worked before i could make my next plans.

"Some worked, some did not. What do you wish to know about first?"

Well, the most blatant was probably the best place to start.

"The Hand dragons."

Tom stiffened for a second, then relaxed.

"A relative failure. We used your ideas, but the designs we've used has been… Mixed results. We have had several designs that does indeed fire the projectile, but no design has so far proven reliable. It has a nasty tendency to blow up instead."

I nodded. About what i expected.

"Well, we'll keep working at it. I need those hand dragons."

For one, i couldn't really begin to work on a standing army before i had a true working, reliable design.

"On that note, how has the Drakes being going?"

A brief flash of confusion crossed Tom's face before he answered.

"Surprisingly well. The design idea is much simpler than the hand dragon, though it originally had the same problem as the hand dragon had of… Well…"

"Exploding in the users face?"

He grimaced.

"Yes. It's a very good thing you left clear instructions of how to test these weapons, with minimal injury, else i fear there would have been, quite a few dead and maimed."

I nodded. It was true enough, the history of guns was littered with that very thing. It was amazing how much of that which could be avoided with some precautions.

"But it's not a problem anymore?"

"No. The designs took a bit of hammering out, but we eventually settled on a design that's reliable and fires without bursting to pieces."

I nodded. That made sense. Canons were supposedly much easier to make than guns, and while i wasn't an expert on the subject, i had given the Tom the basic idea and this new team of his had run with it. They had apparently done a decent job at it too. Medieval folk weren't stupid. If you gave them a logical concept, they could figure shit out just the same as humans from later eras. They just need some explanation to wrap their head around a new idea.

"Good to hear, i'll need the drakes too later down the line. It's the ultimate weapon for sieges and naval battles. Speaking of battle, how's the Armor design i left going?

"Perfect. We replicated it down with no problem."

I stopped in my tracks. Well, mentally at least.

"Really? No problems at all?"

"In terms of the quality of the new armor? No, none."

That… That changed pretty much everything about how i would equip my army.

"Other than the massive time it takes to make the Steel Plates, it's the perfect armor."

Or maybe not.

I sighed again. I had been doing a lot of that lately.

"So how long does it take to make one full suit of armor?"

"Around 3 a month, or so, given the amount of men i put to work on the armor making."

"Which is?"

"27."

So if i increased that number by 10 times i'd get… 30 a month, and 360 a year. It would take two years to outfit roughly 75 percent of a battalion with armor. That was… Not ideal numbers, but it would have to do.

Lamellar armor was good and all, but if i was going to have professional soldiers, i needed actual plate. And the only one i had the tech to make was the good old roman kind.

Well, the first company would still be years away. Hopefully i'd have at least a 1000 armor sets by then.

Well, that was it for military matters. Time to work on what i was actually good at.

"So Tom, how did the Farming machines turn out?"

Tom gave me this strange inquisitive look, as he answered.

"Very well. It took roughly two months of tries before we mastered the constructing of the part designs you left us. After that it was a simple task. The design was… Rather thorough."

Perfect would have been a better way to put it, but i let the old maester put it the way he wanted.

"And you tested them as i commanded. What was the result?"

"About what you estimated. We tested it on the Farm of One Brandon son of Brandon. He is one of the Largest Farm owner directly under Winterfell. Using the Reaper we cleared and gathered the wheat in one 40th of the time it would have taken Farmers to do the same."

Yeah that was about right. It was a pretty good Reaper-binder Design i had given them. Well as good as a Horse Drawn one could be. But i didn't have electricity, so horse drawn ones would have to do.

I nodded as i continued.

"And the other Devices?"

"Well, the Disc Tiller also drastically decreased the amount of time was necessary for tilling the earth for planting. For one, as you predicted, it was vastly better at it than the old kind of plow, but it also decreased the amount of time simply by requiring less times back and forth across the planting field."

Again, as i expected.

"As for the Planting-Drill Device, the result were not as drastic in speed increase, at least not compared to the other two, but at the same time, it is much easier to construct. I expect we'll be seeing much more result as the plants grow however."

"That leaves the Water Trashers. As you predicted, they are somewhat limited due to needing Rivers to function, but the speed increase is enormous."

"Also… the decrease in manpower is also incredible. Each of these tasks have required large amounts of people. With this, one man and two horses can do the work of fifty men, and much faster at that.

I grinned.

"That's the idea Tom. That's the idea."

Last edited: Nov 4, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

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#467

From Fisher of the Northern Cods, to God King of the Fertile Valley beyond the End of the World.

The Lion on the Rampart red, to the Burning Sun of Bronze and Flame. In the valley, your writ is Holy, beyond the Heights the Hungry Freefolk Horde.

Yours alone, is civilization, a land of order against the chaos. To thrive, you must leave it, fight your way through the forest, shatter the hordes with Fire and Bronze.

Flee beyond the Eastern shivering sea.

Find a harbor on the tip, a new homeland you will know, against the Star you shall Fire, Break the Sevens Land of home.

The roots of White will take root, bathe them in the heathen blood and they shall spring forth with bloody leaves and faces of the gods.

A new nation shall rise, of iron, bronze and flame.

Cross the seas.

Burn the Star.

Clad in Bronze.

\- A translation of stone 10. This one stands out in several ways, in particularly an almost complete lack of rhymes and Wordplay, which characterized most of the stones, in particularly the stones which are written in the westerosi tongues.

It's also written in an older form of runes, compared to the other stones written in the Runes of the Old Tongue.

Also unlike the other stones related to Westeros, it does not mention the supposed dragon war, as the other translators have dubbed it. This seems strange, given the current relationship between the thenns and the dragon lords.

Gabriella Ironglove. Historian of the imperial University of Bloodstone.

Last edited: Nov 5, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#476

From Counter of Gold, to King of the Mountain.

From Three Yellow lions on the red, to one golden lion on scarlet tread. The King deep within the mountain, the King on Throne of Gold. Cold and Brutal, but Just and fair. High will fear, and the small will love you.

Your Land will burn, raise the call, arm the men, in plates of steel and Hammers spiked. Turn the tide of Knights in Steel. The Trees will watch, they will not forget, the Singers will listen and answer the Call.

The land will hear, the King lends to all, build the land, hammer the Mountains and make them hollow.

Deep Roads carved through Stone. King beneath the Mountains, the King of Carven Stone. The Lord of Western Mountains, will come unto your own.

The Just will hear you prowling, the Hand will hear you Sing, the Sea will trade in Iron, mixed in with the rest.

Gold will make the Land bloom, and steel will make them pay.

The world will hear your progress, and all men will take note. Men must die, but names live on, make sure to make yours count.

In the east the Summer falls, the Dragon lands no more. The next threat will come from westwards, beyond the salty seas.

The lands will Burn, the fields will turn to dust. The men of stone and mountain, must make a stand in the east. Alliance of the West, from Broken wall to Arm of Dorne, you must all stand together, or you shall hang alone.

Once the dream is realised, and spring now comes again, remake the land from the ashes, in an age of summer without end.

The world will hear your gold, but Paper is your field. From high to low, all will know, the Gold of The Casterly Writ.

Debts are paid, in gold and Blood, depending on the act.

Hear me Roar.

\- A translation of Stone 6. Written in the Runic Script of the Westerlands. Like most of the Stones, the dialect is a bit archaic by modern standards, but the wording and structure lines up rather well compared to records i have read of Skaldic works of the Westerlands of the period.

The other translators have assumed that the writing was all done by one person, but i disagree. While the Runestones themselves might have been carved by one person(or alternately one group of stonemasons.) the actual writing differs so much in both style, composition and Dialect that i can only conclude each was written by a different person.

This has interesting and fascinating implications, but my colleagues all seem so fixated on the actual information of these Prophetic stones(Especially the predicted "Dragon War") that the question of who made them, is often relegated to a secondary question.

Rutella Ice, Historian of the Imperial University of Fair Isle.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#481

brandons_planned_roa_

A Map of the Planned Roads(and the original Planned Path for the Grand Canal) of the North at the Eve of the Coronation of Brandon The Architect as King In The North.

Not the best map for this given the damned english/andal text, but fact of the matter is that while there are some obvious mistakes on this world map(especially in sarnor) in general its the most detailed map of The known world of Planetos youre gonna find. just, please ignore the text, the sometimes wildly inacurate town and castle positions, and the place where the map was folded.


	8. aom2

Nov 8, 2019

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#501

Stone 13

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

Burn Burn Burn

\- Translation of Stone 13. 13 was originally thought by Captain Balon to have been written in the tongue of Valyria.

This is not incorrect, as it does indeed use Valyrian letters, but the statement rather oversimplify things.

Every single word written, is actually just the word Burn, written in a dozen different dialects of Valyrian, as well as other languages that used the valyrian writing systems.

From what i can tell, all of these are from languages that were used within the freehold of Valyria at it's height.

Given the time period in which this was presumably written, and what would happen later, what the stone warns of for the future of the freehold, seems rather obvious.

Oktavia Deepdive, Historian at the Imperial University University of Lorath.

Last edited: Nov 8, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#505

Lyanna Dreadbane enjoyed the view as the riding cart rolled across the plain.

She had been across this plain before, but then as a marching soldier. Now she was a Lady, with a noble title, and all that came with it.

In this case being escorted by a retinue of men sworn to her.

The King had called ALL the lords and masters of the land to his recoronation. Every single one had been called to Winterfell for the occasion.

In her case, as she could not ride(nor did she own a horse for that matter), she had made sure to get a drawing of the kings Riding Cart when he had told her that another summon to winterfell would happen in the near future. It had been easy enough for the team of carpenters currently serving her to make.

She wasn't the only one who had planned for this luxury either. As she looked across the plain, she spotted many other parties of Lords, and like her, most came on a riding cart. Either that or they rode themselves. None of the men escorting their lords rode themselves.

Well, except the queer party of men from Skagos. They had ridden by her party on great, shaggy… Goats? Without as much as a sideway glance at her or her companions. She had not gotten a great look at them or the beasts carrying them, but she had recognized the Green Lobster their shields bore. The Maester who had been sent to replace the fallen one at Dawn tower had brought a book with heraldry of Northern houses. The three houses that rules skagos, were Mangar, Crowl, and Stane.

When she had first gone over the Book she had been baffled that the eaters of Human flesh had Lords, much less that said lords were part of the Kingdom. But they were. So were other strange folk, such as the Kraken men, but at least they had come when the king had called. She had met Kraken Men on the campaign, and from what she had seen, other than their terrible coloring they were just like any other northmen.

They honored the gods, the sang, laughed and drank just the same as home. They loved to the same bawdy and melancholic songs they did at bear island. They had respect for the king, and had looked forward to some good plundering during the campaign(it had taken a while, but they had gotten that at the Dreadfort.).

She could not imagine that men like the

Skagosi were anything like that. Men who feasted on human flesh could not be right in their fucking minds.

Either way, they were someone to stay away from.

As she looked out of the plains, she recognized other Lords, whose banners she now knew after long nights of drilling them into her skull.

The lords generally traveled in parties just like hers, where the principle lord was escorted by his elites as well as all his vassal lords and masters.

Umber, and their vassals, House Hornwood alongside theirs was the most obvious and easily the most notable, but there were plenty of other smaller lords.

Her group was one such. 4 Masters, each bringing 2 Elites each, alongside one or two family members. Alongside her, their Lord, with 18 Elites. Well, "Elite" might be stretching it.

She had three mercenaries(two of whom she had brought with her on this trip) she had picked up to train her own men in fighting. They were good at fighting, strong, and while their armor was a bit dented, it was well kept and maintained. They were not oathbound to her though. Each had signed on for a period of time(1 year past the date of them being hired) after which both had made it clear they would leave.

Other than those, 5 of her men were from her home village from bear island, Farm Hands with no prospect for inheritance, who had decided to try their luck with her.

The rest were men from her own lands of the Dawn Forest, the strongest remaining men who did not have farms of their own.

Both groups might be decent warriors. In a year or two. As it stood, most had only been training in arms for a month or two. They might be dressed in the kings new form of armor(it really was far cheaper than chainmail.), but they weren't soldiers. Not yet.

The contrast between them and the elites of her Masters was painfully clear. It made her feel overly conscious when marching together that her men would walk like normal while her vassals elites would have a clear rhythm to their steps.

Each of the masters also knew how to ride, which had made Lyanna feel even more conscious about herself.

She had spoken to all of them and in turn offered each a spot each day. So far each had refused.

None of them liked being subordinate to a woman, that was clear enough. Other than than that singular trait, they varied a lot.

Tom Stonebreak was a cranky old man who clearly did not want to be on this trip, and resented pretty much everyone, the king for calling him out of his home, her for Being his new Lord, his fellow Masters for being annoying, and so on. He was very much like her Goodfather had been, just without the family connection to make it easier to swallow.

Royce Arrow was a young boy in his 13th year who clearly was far too interested in her body, as if he had never seen an adult woman before in his life. He also ignored her Daughter Eddara, who was much more proper for his age, which had not endeared Lyanna to him.

Lucifer Brawn never talked to anyone. Not his fellow Masters, not his Elites, not his Lord. Lyanna had heard less than 10 words from him, and they generally boiled down to "No" "Greetings" and "Later". All the man seemed to be interested in was books, as he scribbled down on unfurled, unwritten books everytime they made camps. She had heard all the other four Masters talk about him with their own elites, but if he ever heard them, he did not seem to care.

The only one who had openly challenged her(and paradoxically the only one who she was on good footing with currently) though, was Eddard Dawnsword.

He had been the first to come to her new home and he had been rude as fuck, and told her he could not see how she could possibly have captured the Red King. It had all gotten out of hand, and had ended with a fight with her laying him on the ground with a wrestling move.

Which had lead to him complimenting her, and telling her she was damned strong for a woman. Which had lead to them making up over mead.

Somehow that had ended with the two of them becoming friends. Somehow. Was that how lords did things on the mainland? Get into fights then bond over mead? That was pretty much her husband had befriended every traveler he meet at the village inn.

Somehow she had thought lords would be more… Dignified.

She had learned quite a bit of Eddards family history afterwards, as the man was not shy about gushing about it. His family was from the mountains, having become masters in the Dawn forest about 5 years before the starks Lost the area in war the last time.

They had been an Elite under house Dawn, hence the name, Dawnsword. A sword of house Dawn.

He had also declined the offer to sit in the traveling cart, but that was more due to him preferring his horse. They talked a lot as they traveled.

Especially about the King and his decisions.

The King was eager to get this recoronation business over with as quickly as it was possible. Like her, Eddard had no idea why the king was so eager to get his crown replanted on his head, especially not when he had every single lord of the North come to him to watch it.

"The Starks aren't frivolous, so why he would waste so much time gathering us all up is beyond me. He's King already, i know it, you know it, the east knows it. Everyone coughed up hostages didn't they?"

She agreed on that point. From what she had seen of the King, their Monarch was not one for frivolity.

Did he have some new laws perhaps? Or knowing his inventions, mayhaps he had some new marvels to show the entire north.

Still, she hadn't been that eager to leave for th capital. She still had a lot of work to do back home. Still,duty once again called, and her home was in good hands.

Back at the Dawn "Tower", she had Maester Durran to watch over both her Children, as well as the rebuilding. The King had provided both troops to protect it during the initial parts of the rebuilding, as well as builders to remake it's walls. The King had agreed to finance it, provided he got to remake the Castle His Way. Not having any idea how to find builders, how to lead reconstruction, how to get coin to pay for it, nor having particularly many troops(she had 35 total) to protect it, she had agreed.

She had liked the drawings of the way the castle would look, though the maester was baffled by it.

She had kinda stopped listening and sipped her mead when one of her Elites asked why he was so upset about the design. Upon which the old man went on a long winded and droll explanation of why this new form of castle was awful, and Improper, and "Thin" stone walls with packed earth behind them as the main defence was foolish.

She was no expert on castles. Before all this, her only experience with castles was the Fort of House Mormont. Their home was a Hall of wood with a circle of spiked logs buried in the earth around it.

Even she could see that whatever the maester said, this new castle type was far better than that.

Lots better too. Gods. Lords had it good. She remembered thinking that Master Mormont was rich, as she had once spent 300 silver Wolves on a Festival Day.

In her first round of Taxation as lady of the Dawn forest, she had earned 1408 Silver Wolves, and 7329 Bronze Axes. And enough Harvests that she could have feed her home Village for 3 years.

It was staggering how much more Lords earned than Masters, and Gods help her, Smallfolk.

When Jon had went to Town and sold their surplus each year, he had come home with generally 7 silvers, and varying degrees of Bronze.

Now that was such a small amount it seemed silly to her. Yet that had been all the coin they would earn in one year, if they needed something that none were willing to lend, they would need to get it with that money.

Now she had enough Coin to outfit 30 Men in Iron armor, Steel axes, and surcoats with her own symbol on it.

HER Symbol.

Not her Master's or her Lady's, or even her King's.

Her Symbol.

She really liked it. She had thought on what to add. A red Bear, a broken Black tower, a Broken Bridge like the Count had chosen.

In the end, she had decided on a scarlet Crown on pure black. A Red crown for the Red King and Black for the Doom that surrounded him.

Dreadbane.

It had sounded far more thoughtful and clever in her head.

Either way, she loved the way it looked. She loved the way it looked on Eddara as well. Her Little Girl had become a Woman in the last year. No, she had flowered before that. Lyanna simply hadn't been focused on that back then. It had been Winter, then war. Survival had been the most important thing in the World back then.

Now Spring had come in full, and she had had to face that, that Little Girl of hers had been growing up.

So, as she was heading to Winterfell, she had taken her with her. She had originally hoped to wed her to one of Eddard's sons, but they were all married apparently(the only ones unmarried was his daughters, two of whom he brought with him). So she had decided to bring her with her to the capital. She was not such a fool she thought she would catch the Kings Eye, and his Brother, the crown prince was far too Young for Eddara. But she was hoping to find her Little girl a proper match, amongst the other Nobles. Hopefully.

Just like her Father had for her with Jon all those years ago, it was her Duty as Parent to set her up with a good match so she was well taken care of.

As they crossed more of the plain over the next two days, they saw more and more lords. It made her feel rather self conscious, that the wast majority of those she saw was astride a horse themselves, rather than in a cart.

They did not stop to talk however, nor did they gather together into larger groups. Everyone had different pace, and some would stop rest at the same time as others galloped past.

The Lords and Masters outside their respective groups did not mingle.

It was an uncomfortable feeling. So different than the Army, and it's never ending laughter, jokes and smalltalk. It had been a much more cheerful time than this bleak journey.

Her joking with Brandon as he sullenly refused to-

She buried those memories down hard. Something else, think of something else idiot.

Either way, there was only one day left before they finally would reach Winterfell, and she would be able to finish this whole journey bef-

What the fuck was that thing?

She was shaken out of her thoughts as she caught the glimpse of something big, something ENORMOUS, moving in the distance. Around it was men in white and gray, which she could only assume meant they were Stark men.

She wasn't the only one who caught it though, Both her Elites and the other armed men saw it too, but it was Eddara who first raised the question loudly.

"What in the Cold Ones name is that thing?"

One of the Dawnsword men snorted.

"It's just a Mammoth Me lady."

"That's a mammoth?" Jorah, one of her elites, blurted out.

"It looks like a bloody building, it does. With Fucking Fur tents on top of it."

The other one of the Dawnsword men chuckled. "It's just a Mammoth lad. Mammoths are harmless. So long as it's got no Giant, it's nothing to fear.

Lyanna saw Eddara shudder, at the mention of the giant monsters. Giants were the most terrifying thing in the entire North, monsters from the tales, except unlike the others, who were forever trapped beyond the wall, these creatures were still here. She had seen a pack of them while they marched after the Battle of the Bloody hill. They had just stood there and watched the army move past them, and for that Lyanna was eternally grateful.

"Mammoths are supposed to only be with giants, so why is this one here? What's it doing?" asked Dolorus, another of her elites.

"Good question" The Eddard replied lazily. "Wanna stop and ask the Men around it my Lady?" he asked as he Turned to Lyanna.

She considered for one moment. "No."

She wanted to see winterfell again, there was no reason to delay the trip.

As they went past, lyanna took in the scene. It was a truly bizarre image. The… Mammoth, was surrounded by men, and it dragged a truly massive plow behind it, tilting the earth? Why? What was the point of that? Far behind it, stretching on and on the way they were heading, she could see that the massive plow had been digging up the earth into a giant trench in the earth.

As for the men around the beast, they were obviously soldiers, dressed in steel as they were. It was not a dignified armor though.

Lyanna had though that the armor of a thousand plates had made the men wearing them look like a lobster. But by the gods, this new armor was just that, a lobster shell of steel. It looked ridiculous. And that helmet, it looked like a cooking pot turned upside down, with the path in front hammered up to make a flap upwards. The silly chinstrap from the too far apart sides just reinforced the silly look of the Helmet.

As they saw the group, those on the side of the beast in her direction, made a salute by slamming their left fists into their chest and well as bowing their head.

In their right hands they hand long spears that ended in a sharp shiny tip of steel. Over their shoulders and backs they wore traditional Northern cloaks in white color.

There was a final soldier not standing, instead sitting on a small cart being pulled by some other soldiers. There were also no less than eight men standing directly around him all with large shields.

As they moved past, Lyanna looked at the giant trench. It was large, and impressive in its own right, work that would have taken hundreds of men a weeks work, done at lightning speed, but it was still a ditch. Useless. Unless the king meant to build the largest latrine ever, she had no idea what the point of this thing was.

Last edited: Nov 9, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#541

district map colored (2).png

The North Divided into its provinces in the year 2428.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#553

The Unicorns were an impressive and interesting sight in the Kings Courtyard, even with everything else that had been going on there lately.

Robb the Warg, Warden Commander of the Royal province of Winterfell, stood on the battlements looking down on the courtyard as the company of Skags dismounted, bent their knees before the King, and swore their oaths.

God, what ugly filthy men. Dressed almost completely like wildlings, and with giant knots of filthy hair, the skagosi truly looked like the barbarians they were always talked about as. Underhuman bastards that should have been cleansed from the world long ago.

Just like the ironborn.

And the Sistermen.

And the Wildlings.

Why the Starks had not exterminated them when they conquered Skagos, he did not know. Instead they had allowed them to bend the knee, and been incorporated into the fold. Supposedly anyway.

He had never even heard of any Skagosi lord who had ever come to Winterfell, when their overlord raised the Call to arms. Yet now they came.

As the King whisked the party away into the Inners of the Castle, Robb took time to watch the Unicorns. Giant Goats was the best way to describe them. With a bizarre spiral patterned Horn and a massive whipping fluffy tail.

On the other side of the castle yard, another of the Kings wargs stood with a Shadowcat, a much more mundane creature. An oversized cat bigger than a wolf, with a long, incredibly poofy tail, and the beginnings of a mane under it's chin. As the only lordling amongst their numbers so far, he alone, along with robb, had the right to bring his animal into the castle itself.

The Creature's dark purplish fur was marred by stripes of white, and it's ears had large tufts of fur at the end.

It was a decent enough creature he supposed. But then again. It couldn't fly. And so what was the point?

He vaulted himself of battlement and took to the sky.

Robb had Broken a multitude of animals in his life. And to be blunt, he had never understood the appeal of being able to become a dog, a cat or even a bear. There was no joy in taking their skins. Not compared to human pleasures.

But a bird? To be able to Soar? That was a feeling nothing men could do could ever compare to.

Why none of the other wargs preferred The sky he did not understand. 14 Wargs had so far come to Winterfell after the king's proclamation of protection for the Skinchangers. And more would follow he had no doubt.

1 Boy and 2 Girls who had been saved the death of exposure. 2 families of 3 who had been living in the wilderness. And the rest random Wargs who had simply made the trek to Winterfell to obtain the Kings Shield.

All had come with their own animal. One the families had come with 3 bears, the other with 3 Direwolves, the smallfolk children with Cats, and the rest with Wolves, direwolves and and one with a mammoth of all things.

It had caused quite the commotion when he first arrived, but the king had accepted him into the fold like all the other wargs.

The king had quickly put him to use too. In one months work, he had already dug 2 massive ditches west towards the river, one which would eventually become a rain trench. Another was a hole while that was currently being used as as the base for a Stone Road under construction. Why in the Gods name the king would want that, he did not know. It seemed a bit too much work in his opinion, when hardened earth worked just fine.

Now the Mammoth was being used to make another road base to the west. They would be done with that and would have started on another set before the men were halfway done with the western road.

Alongside the roads, there was another project that would be started on by the mammoth team, with a massive trench that would go north-east all the way to Long Lake. Apparently in said trench there would be a astoundingly long set of bronze pipes for transporting water to the capital. He was well familiar with the project, having had to help make mark the path the pipes would go through from the air.

The only other warg with the sense to have bonded a Bird was the one from the neck, and he was allowed to relax at the Wolfsden as it was being remade. Which meant he was on constant work helping the king and his surveyors.

As he soared he saw many things, he saw the new tower to the north-east the king had been building for the wargs, his seat in name, but until it became more populated with wargs who could fly, he was effectively on duty all the time for giving the king information from the sky.

On the fields beyond wintertown was dots of nobles, small packs of men in colorful clothing. Spread out across the fields, they were like dots on a map.

In Wintertown, the smiths had increased in numbers some several hundredfold. Each area where the new machines were sent, dozens of new young men from the area would come to the town seeking work, or being called up by the king to lay roads.

There were promises of royal help to make new farms, and there was work on that as well. Dozens of new farmsteads were being worked upon in the distance. It seemed as if the province had become one giant swamp of activity.

Men in strong shining Lobster armor of steel marched all across the land. Patrolling the roads, out in the woods hunting and culling direwolf with hunting bows, protecting the workers, road builders and surveyors, and men transporting stone and bronze from direwolves and bandits alike.

It was quite the sight.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#560

From Fighting the sea, to King of the stormy lands.

From 2 golden lions, with one in between, crowned on blue, with Sword of steel, to Black stag on Golden field, Horning all, and making them kneel.

In your youth, you fought the seas, now do it again. Born anew, fight the seas, retake the Land, stand against the storms.

Great dikes against the narrow seas, beneath the Seven Stars, In the South, the Black Gate, under The red haired Queen, the follower of bloody trees, do not fight her, do not bring steel, you will lose upon the bloody powdered field.

The land of storms, the bay of black, the bay of broken ships, these are your foes, defeat them, retake the lands from the depths.

Drain the bay, take the storm in your hand, reclaim the hammer, bring it up, you will know it's power.

Your followers will rise against you, show them the bloody steel, with hammer and bolts make them kneel, remake the peace with a bloody field.

Try to claim the the dragonstone, you will fail, the falcon upon the island sits, with talons made of steel, make a trade, be his friend, or you will feel the pointy talons end.

To the west the greenhand stands, the friend of all, friend and foe alike, he will heal your wounds, if you take his hand.

The land will bloom, beneath the seas, the waterline, the land of crops will stand, rice from the east, wheat from the north, cotton from west, the land will be a marvel.

Valyria shall falter, and be born anew, a weaker son, a pale imitation, an heir of lacking might, do not be fooled, the threat comes from the west, that's where the foe will land.

The land shall bathe in fire, in the decade of the autumn, the lands will burn, your castles turned to slag, against the odds, you will stand as one, once you were numerous, but that is long ago, you are no more the land of hundreds, now only 8 more to go.

Stand as one, unite upon the field, stand against the fire, and then against the ice, to the North you must march, to the Human race's final stand, against the Eternal neverending Night.

A symphony of frost and Flame, a Stand against the cold, at Winterfell the Kings of 8 will brace against the Broken wall of ice, against the Childrens dying rage, an undead horde of wights.

227 years from now it will happen, a battle for the world, make them remember, your kin stood against a god, you will not falter now, with a curse upon your lips.

Ours is the fury.

-Stone 2.

Out of all the stones, this one is the one most fascinating, as it's the only one who gives a concrete number to the prophecies. 227 years after. The problem is that we don't know when these stones were written. Presumably they were written before the first age of the prophecies, long since passed now. But how long before? One year? Two? Fifty? We have no way of knowing. And without knowing, we have no way of determining an exact date of the supposed "Dragon war".

Also, the stones again and again tells us to beware the west. There is nothing to the west of Westeros, between the sunset lands and the east coast of essos. All failed attempts to cross the seas have proven that. No ships that has sailed beyond the lonely light, or the triplets have ever returned to tell of it, much less the other way. Yet somehow the supposed threat will come from there.

It makes no sense.

Harra Mord, Historian of the Imperial university of the Arbor.

Last edited: Nov 11, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#609

Stark was holding quite the little gathering here, Roose Glover mused to himself, as he stood by one of the windows while enjoying a cup of mead.

Marvelous stuff these windows. Roose had seen his fair share of glass in his years, but compared to the glass mady by Towns, the glass produced in wintertown was something else entirely.

He was in the cell he had been given by the King. It wasn't a true lordly room, instead a barracks room which had been repurposed as his cell while he was here. The enormous amounts of lords and masters was astounding, and as he had seen happen with each arrival, the Castle was being slowly being filled to the absolute brim with lordly guests and their retinues. His own men slept in a tent in the courtyard, alongside most of the Lords Soldiers.

Over 250 masters and lords had come to witness the King's Coronation. Each of Those had brought their own retinues and family members. The amount of men might not match the sheer numbers that had been here when the call to arms came, but there was something beautiful of seeing over a thousand men, in armor, trained for war.

The King's new Company was proof enough of that.

So far, from what he had seen, the King's new Sworn Swords were nearly equal in number to the amount of men who were camped in the enormous courtyard. And they were dressed in FAR more impressive armor than simple mail, or even the kings previous armor of a thousand plates.

They weren't there quite yet, but it was obvious to all who saw them that King Brandon was forming an Army. A STANDING army.

It was pretty obvious, but for those who had missed it, the King had been very forward on the subject, and asked his nobles for young Strong sons to serve as officers in the new "Royal Army of Stark".

He had not been fan of the idea. Nor had most of the other nobles he had talked to about it. Ignoring all that came with such an… unnatural host, there was the dreaded question of how the king Would be paying for it, most assuming that the dreaded army tax would be coming back.

This was not the first time the north had arrayed into such matters. Some centuries back, house Stark had created such a company under the Reign of Brandon the Battleborn, the man famous for crushing invasions from ironborn, Wildlings and Bolton, all at the same time.

He had been the first monarch to dabble into an army which would always be ready for war at all times.

And he had taxed his Lords to the Hilt to pay for it. In the end however, the army had not fallen to sword, or inability to pay for it. No it had been disbanded due to a foe which no amount of training in the yard could ever beat. Winter.

As it turned out, having thousands of men in out in the provinces under arms, meant they could not be in the field and farming. Which had meant very bad things as winter came.

The Battleborn had only managed to feed his kingdom during the winter after his company was formed, by extensively plundering the realm of the Boltons for food to stave of the famine. An acceptable price to be sure, but not one that was sustainable. In the end, come spring, and a new war with Bolton where they smashed the red King in the field and forced him to pay an bloodprice to end the war, the army was disbanded, much to the relief of every Lord in the land.

One would think that if the King was hoping to avoid that fate for his new company, he would be more stringent with his feasts.

The king was not acting as niggardly and sparse in terms of food as he had been during the army gathering. Instead, they got a bloody feast each day, with mead and foodstuffs overflowing for all. Then he would take the leftover after each meal, and divide them out in wintertown.

He was certainly an open handed king, which was good, and how a King should be, but if he truly meant to keep this company in the field indefinitely, this would change.

Also, a new tax was unavoidable regarding the subject. He knew it, the other nobles knew it, all knew it. The king would need coin to pay for it all.

And The Gods help them when winter comes.

The more annoying part was that there were nobles who had been more than enthusiastic regarding it. The mountain men had been with the king to the hilt, given the king's promise to use said army to both protect the northern mountains from wildlings, as well marching beyond the wall to cull the barbarians every now and then.

The destructive path that a wildling band had wreaked across the mountain lands during the war was a good motivator to exterminate as many of the underhumans beyond the wall as possible.

Along with them was the lady of bear island, as well as the Kings cousins the Umbers, House Locke and The… House from the neck whose name he could not recall. The one with the purple dye. Those last two had been very on board with the idea of conquering the men of the sisters and crushing the islands once and for all.

There had been some opposition, especially from the eastern lords, who had been opposed to idea fiercely, but could not openly challenge the king on the matter. So they had tried to get others on with the idea of making a stand against the kings new Company.

It hasn't worked. While there was certainly many lords and masters in the west who did not like the idea of the army, far less than he himself did, they would not ally themselves with Men who had previously served the Red King over the subject.

Thus there had been two separate factions who opposed it. Neither large enough to challenge the King on the matter on their own.

Truth be told, he doubted it would matter even if they had united over the subject.

The king had a lot of momentum behind him after his eastern victory, and far too many lordships and master titles which would be granted during this ceremony for anyone with any ambition to truly argue with him on the point. One did not challenge the king if one wished a lordship of him.

Roose himself was one example of that. The king had been rather unsubtle, that there would be a lordship coming to him at the end of this. And house Glover was not one to bite the hand that fed them.

It would mean that his house would now, finally, rise from the title of a mere Masterly House, and become true lords, with all that came with it.

It was a good time for House Glover.

"So, how long do you think we'll have to wait before all the damned ceremony is over?"

"Who knows. Depends on what the king wants us to do on the west field, after the crowning. I really bloody hope it's not Another damned feast."

Sansa Woodfoot, leaned herself up against a tree, contemplating the pool of the Godswood of Winterfell,as she waited for their king.

She was a woman of average height, with a build which wasn't quite as wide and bearlike as her thick heavy clothing made it out to be.

By her side stood her friend, Lord Tom Fisher. The man was tall and lean, a man of average build, with one of the longest(yet still, very well trimmed) beards Sansa had ever seen. It's size along with its dark Red coloring was quite a sight.

"Aye." He replied Grounchily. "If the King wants another bloody feast, we can at least keep it inside, where it's warm."

Tom had grown rather tired of the kings endless feasts. Truth be told, she was as well, though not to his level.

Feasts(well done at least) were always a good time, with good food, good drinks, good dancing, and a skald or two to get everyone in the mood for song.

Winterfell lately was that exact thing. But after near a month of feasting, it was growing somewhat stale. The food was still good, and the mead was tasty, but fuck her, it was getting monotonous having a large feast every night.

How the king had enough food for it, was anyone's guess.

There was talk amongst the servants of Winterfell that some of the kings devices(which Wintertown was churning out at an astonishing rate) was speeding things up at farms. Mayhaps so, but she couldn't see how the difference could be such that the king could make large and generous feasts each night. For over a thousand men at that, as the king had a seperate feast for the men in the courtyard as well.

Now though, the final lordling had gotten his ass here from cape Kraken, and it was about time to finally get this crowning underway.

Now they just had to wait for the King to get his ass out here and put on the damned crown and say his words. Whenever he could be bothered. Then they would all head out the west gate, and to an area where the king had been building seats.

Everyone had either heard about that, or went up on the battlements to take a look for themselves.

There was tall seats in rows in the distance around some farmstead, and acording to the King, all the lords would be heading there after the coronation. When asked, for what? The king would simply smile and say "A Show."

One would think that he would hold this "Show" the day after the coronation, and handing out of titles, but apparently not. This show was obviously important to the king. Important enough that the only thing he considered more important than it, was his coronation as the King in the North(why not King OF the North, she was not certain.)

She had heard various discussions on the topic of what the show would be about. From the silly, to the unlikely, to the mundane. Some said the king would have a grand skald competition as several kings had had before him on their coronation. Some said it was an impromptu grand hunt, some that the king was planning an even more extravagant feast(which seemed unlikely, given the King had declared that the final feast would be on the coronation night, to celebrate both the crowning and his marriage and it would be even grander than any of the previous ones.), others said it would be a grand melee.

And yet others claimed the king was going to show of more of his invention. Personally she found that to be the most likely one.

Whatever the king had planned, he was obviously well invested in it. He spent many hours each day near the site. Not behaviour that one would expect for king with all his vassals under his roof.

As she looked at the black pool, her view was blocked by Lord Ryswell deciding to plant his boots by the pools edge. Annoying.

"So, how did the attempt at setting up a match go?"

She nodded towards the Lord of the Rills.

"Any Luck?"

Tom Snorted.

"He told me to piss off when i suggested it. Arse. He has no respect for anyone that one. No wonder King Jon cut his balls off when he got into that scuffle with Dustin. I don't think i've met a more surly fellow than that one."

"Aye, Master Mormont tried to suggest one of his daughters marry one of her sons."

"The cripple?"

"Well, from what she told me, she actually wanted to suggest her heir. But yes, he took it as a suggestion to marry his daughter off to the invalid."

Tom snorted.

"Now that's a reaction that would have been fun to see."

She chuckled.

"You'd think he was about to have a stroke of pure rage."

Tom chuckled back along with her.

"Would have been a beautiful sight to behold if he did, but alas, the Gods are not that good."

He glanced to the side towards one of the of the Mountain clan leaders.

"Might have some luck with the mountain Clans though. Young Lord hook is looking for a bride."

"Not the most illustrious of marriages but-" she was cut off, as the King finally arrived.

A hush descended over the gathering, as the king of Winter finally came to the Godswood.

He was dressed in what he usually wore outside. A finse surcoat of white, with the grey direwolf, masterfully embroidered on it. On his hands a set of finely crafted set of leather gloves. Across his shoulders and back, a massive fur cloak made of white fur that could only have belonged to a Direwolf.

On each of his sides stood two armed and armored men, clad in lobstered steel, long spears in hand, and warmaces in their belts.

The king also walked with an a cane, though he did not lean at it anywhere near the same level as he had directly after…. His injury.

She tried very hard to ignore the halt in his steps, and today at least it seemed he was able to as well, as it was nowhere near as noticeable as it usually was.

Despite his crippled leg, the King was still the most eligible bachelor in the country. As such every single noble who had come, had brought their daughter, sisters and nieces, all in hope of winning the kings hand through, charm, beauty and just good old politics.

She herself was no exception to that, as she had brought all 4 of her unmarried daughters to winterfell. They were generally fair lasses with good heads on their shoulders. Far more comely than many of these mainlander brides that was for sure.

She has seen dozens, and dozens of the various ladies the Mainlander lords had brought. It was as if they had no sense of shame.

Many had crooked teeth, no chins, fat as a boulder, one was beautiful but blind, another lacked a hand, and on and on it went.

Then there was those of great beauty, who had absolutely no sense of shame. She had seen several who had dressed their daughters in southron clothing(though no silks thank the gods) with designs more at home at whores than at women with any form of virtue. Many would cut down to show their breasts in ridiculously low cuts, and some would go even further than that.

One had put his daughter in a dress which showed the shoulders bare as well as her cleavage! It was only held up by bands around their arms.

Gods, it was fucking embarrassing how the mainlanders were willing to go to any shameless length to win the King's eye.

Not that it had mattered in the long run. The King had made his choice, and the price of the Queenship had not gone to any of those who had dressed their daughters up as whores.

Instead, their new Queen was one Sansa Reed, Sister of the Lord of the neck(who despite all the rumors had finally managed to. Make it to winterfell alive). And looking at her, it was not hard to see why the king had chosen her. The lady was a head shorter than her upcoming husband, but she had a truly astounding set of hips, large teats, a comely(if not amazingly pretty) face.

She was also provenly fertile, having been married before and produced children, before becoming a widow at the tender age of 23.

She was in every way, the safe choice compared to all the younger brides that had come to winterfell. That, and it seemed rather likely the King was more interested in a woman's rear than her tits.

The announcement of the marriage had created a vacuum of hundreds of young potential brides, all in one place along with their fathers. That had unsurprisingly lead to a truly astonishingly large amount of betrothals, between lords from all around the kingdom.

It had also focused a lot of attention towards the second most eligible bachelor in the North. Prince Rickard.

However, as he was only a boy, any relstionship would only be a engagement, and in any case, he was a bit too young to seduce with feminine viles.

Which meant that the way to the lads hand was through His brother. The king had so far not committed to any such bonds.

The King walked through an opening in the mass of now silent people towards the center piece, to the spot in front of the largest weirwood in the forest. Where his goodbrother, Lord Reed stood with the King's crown.

Usually, this part of the ceremony would be played by the Kings Mother, but as Lady Barbra was dead, the King would need to choose someone else. He had settled on his new family.

As she looked at the King kneel before Lord Reed and more importantly, the weirwood, she felt annoyed it was not her in that role. She wasn't bitter though. Honest. She had found her daughters respectable matches.

None of them royal though.

The crowd was now fully silent, other than breathing.

Lord Reed began his speech, in a voice that sounded like it came from a man just recovering from almost drowning.

"Brandon Stark, son of John the Law. Are you ready to Make your oaths?"

"I am."

The King sounded far more confident and healthy than lord reed ever could. His voice was hard and strong, with confidence in each word.

"Do you promise and swear, to protect and ward the Kingdom of the North and all her people, against all those who would do it harm."

"I swear."

"Do you Promise to uphold and respect the law, to do justice with your own hand and sword, to protect the weak and grant help to the helpless, to reward those who serve you loyally, through, winter, spring, summer and autumn?"

"I swear."

"Do you Swear to uphold the Pact, and to keep, respect and protect the faith of the true Gods, against all those who would harm the true Faith?"

"I swear"

"Then rise, and claim your Crown."

Short and simple oaths, that was the Northern way. She remembered once hearing a trader she once dealt with telling her of an andal coronation. They would stand around for hours, saying thing that could have taken only a few minutes.

Then they would have one of their silly little priests put the crown on the kings head, and claim to speak for the gods as they imbued them with royal authority. What a fucking joke. You spoke your oaths before the gods, so that they heard you, and punished you if you broke them, but authority, that came from only one place. And sure wasn't from the gods.

As the king rose, and took the crown from Lord Reed's hands and crowned himself, over 400 voices erupted in cheers and roars, nobles, soldiers and Castlefolk alike.

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

Last edited: Nov 19, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#632

From Sands and mountains to the land of the Free, now Queen of the the Red sands, Bloodstone to be.

From lion, scimitar and sun, to the Pyramid beneath the all seeing, all knowing eye, to Gate of Black Wood of Iron, bolted and Strong.

A teacher of Youth, of Knaves, of Fools, of Promise.

In your youth, you stood for rights of equal born, you failed, you crumbled, you fled the land, now do it again, Better this time, stand up and fight.

The way is threatened, the Knights they come, your brother threatens the faith of old, with him comes seven to burn the Bloody Holy trees.

Meet them with fire, steel and lead, make them undone, crush the traitors and guard the Gods, Men will know your name.

A Woman of the Sands, a High Queen of All Dornish Lands.

First march west, and hammer the king of Stone and Sky, make him kneel as king, rise as prince.

Next you must conquer the sea, only Snakes and dragons will do, you shall find help from the King of Iron, pay his price in jewels and stepping stones.

With the dragonships you can begin your work, go east, and make the Greenblood yours, with the river, the east will follow into line.

After that, the Brimstone Burning, the Dryland Kings will Kneel under might and lead.

Finally the western River, the Torrentine from on high, the Daynes will kneel, but not from Battle, a marriage pact will make Dorne whole.

A crown of fire, a circlet of flames, 16 Spinels red as blood, when you rise, all will see.

Your land is whole, but the work is not done, through the western passes, a pathway made by human hand, through it flows the water, into the barren red depths, a new lake will form, and from it rivers of life.

Rain will follow, more than ever, across all southern lands below the mountains red.

The people will know you, all that you do, all that you wish, but the children are the Key, through them your dream of equal laws must flourish and spring.

You know the way, follow the path, all must read to follow your will.

Across the water, the routes will form, ships of trade, with Bronze, silks and spices, go out to sail, bring home the iron, steel and farming tools.

In the east, the dragon lands, one final Archon, the maddest of all.

He is like you.

Has a plan.

Essos will bathe in blood and dragonflame.

The horse lords of the steppes shall burn until none remain, east and west alike. Beyond the mountains, burning trenches from northern seas, filling the depths again.

The end will come for the dragons.

Blood shall follow.

War from the east.

We Guard The Way.

-Stone 5.

Unlike most of the other stones related to westeros, this one does not cover the so called "Dragon War". Instead it's final lines instead puts great focus on the events in valyria during this time period and how it would affect dorne.

Curiously, it makes the claim that Archon Daemon Essaryon was "The Maddest of All" which would be a complete contradiction against everything we know of the last Archon, as he was famously brilliant, and his actions in the east, while certainly bloodthirsty against the horse riding barbarians, certainly won the freehold many friends amongst the Qartheenese, the Sarnori, the Yi Ti's and the people of bone mountains.

However, as this stone correctly predicted, the Freehold never managed to actually get anything out of this goodwill before the events of the Decades of Destruction came to western Essos.

Harra Blackfish, Historian of the Imperial University of Cedar.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#654

Lyanna found her place on the seats. As she was of lordly rank, she had been given a seat in the second ranks, behind and above the most powerful lords of the realm, such as Lady Woodfoot, Lord Ryswell, Lord Dustin, Lord umber and… Master glover of Deepwood Motte as well as Lord fisher from the stoney shore and finally Lord Magnar of Skagos.

She was admittedly not as well versed in northern Politics as she would have liked to be, but she was rather certain none of these houses was nearly as powerful or as important as the king's placement of them made them out to be.

In any case, to her sides, was the rest of those who carried Lordly Titles, as well as the Clan Chieftains, who she had learned got the privilege of being called lords at winterfell, despite their status as little. More than tribal chieftains.

The nuances of lordly ranks was something she needed to get used to.

It was an usual sets of seats. Ignoring how it was the highest ranked who sat on the front seats(still a bit above ground) the seats were long benches with smaller seats on top for each lord to sit, held up by a series of metal pipes beneath and behind them. It did not look safe. But so far she had not felt any wobbling from them, for which she was rather grateful for.

"So, my dear Lady, what do you think the King wishes to show us here with the grains?"

What she was not grateful for, was the annoying clan chieftain at her side, who had been trying to seduce her the last couple of days.

She had gotten a several suitors, who all had pointedly ignored her daughter in favour of her herself.

That all of them were arses who wanted to try and steal her sons inheritance she did not doubt.

Which made Robb Flint rather annoying, as he seemed to be an exception. He did not want her hand because he wanted Dawnforest. He did it because he obviously lusted after her. Which might have been flattering, if he was not a 15 year old boy just come into his majority.

If she was going to marry again, a 15 year old lad who had probably just started using his cock for something else than pissing, was not on her list of possible candidates.

"I assume the king wishes to show us the source of his seemingly endless amount of food." She replied tiredly.

It seemed the only explanation for the placements of the seats. Right in front of a pretty large unharvested field of wheat.

That every single other field around the castle had long since been harvested supported the idea that this was where they would learn the origin of all the ludicrous amount of grain.

To the left, near the end of the field, a strange device stood. It was a bit hard to describe, as it had a bunch of weird features. It's most notable feature was something which could best be described as 4 Sword blades, attached to a crosses on each end, holding them in place. The crosses were in turn attached to the rest of the device, to some weird looking pieces of metal that was connected to other pieces of metal.

There was an uncomfortable looking seat mounted to the device, as well as a large thought of metal on the other side than the crosses.

"Aye, i suppose that would make sense. Though i fail to see how you could get more food out of a field planted field. Unlike cows, each piece of grain is the same aren't they?"

A bit of an oversimplification of the art of farming, but she did not feel like going into a longvinded debate on the subject.

So she simply said "Aye."

Truth be told, she couldn't see how this thing would increase yields. The field was large, but no larger than other large pieces of farm fields she had seen in her years, as Flint said, the amount of food was the same for all fields of equal size. You could not get more crops out of a piece of plot than any other times you planted.

Of course, there was the possibility of a bad harvest, or a good one, but the highest potential crop yield could not be changed.

A quick hornblast put an end to her thoughts, and thankfully, Flints annoying attempts to flirt. Sounds around them died down. Everything went quiet.

The eyes of the Lords of the North turned upon the figure they had all come to see.

The king was walking up to the side of the device, in his hand he had the device she recalled from the day of the battle all those months ago. The thing that amplified his voice.

And this time, she would be right above him as he used it. Joy oh joy.

In the other hand he held a cane he used to assist in walking, though it seemed he didn't need it today. He seemed to walk relatively normally today.

The king was dressed in a fine surcoat of white with the grey direwolf on his chest, thick leather gloves, and the crown of Swords upon his head.

Unlike most of the time she saw him these days, he was not wearing a cloak, instead going bare above his clothing.

The king lifted the metal cone.

"MY LORDS, THANK YOU FOR COMING HERE TODAY!"

Well, the voice WAS loud and strong, but compared to what she recalled from the battle it didn't seem nearly as powerful. Was she imagining that? Maybe the stress of the upcoming battle had just made her think he had sounded louder than he had. Yes, that seemed most likely.

"THIS IS AN IMPORTANT DAY, A CORONATION, A WEDDING, AND…."

He motioned to the device.

"A DEMONSTRATION OF THE FUTURE."

"MOST OF YOU FOUGHT AT THE BATTLE OF THE BLOODY HILL, AND YOU MIGHT RECALL THE PROMISE I MADE TO ALL MY SUBJECTS THERE, THAT WE WERE ABOUT TO ENTER AN AN AGE WHERE FAMINE WAS A THING OF THE PAST."

"WELL. THIS IS THE MEANS BY WHICH I INTEND TO DO JUST THAT! THIS IS A REAPER MACHINE! IT IS A FARM TOOL TO HELP MEN HARVEST WHEAT FASTER. AND IT IS WITHOUT ANY DOUBT OR EXAGGERATION I SAY, THAT IT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PIECE OF TECHNOLOGY EVER DEVISED BY HUMAN HAND!"

"BUT RATHER THAN TRY TO WIN YOUR HEARTS ON IT WITH WORDS, I SHALL LET IT SPEAK FOR ITSELF!"

He then lowered the Cone and motioned to two farmhands, one who promptly climbed up to the seat and got the horses to start moving. The other walked alongside with a pitchfork slung across his shoulder.

As the machine got moving forward, the Blade Crosses began to move, rotating around at a pretty decent speed, and as it his the wheat it… Cut straight through.

Lyanna blinked several times, as if to reassure herself she was actually seeing the sight ahead of her correctly.

Lyanna had farmed her entire life until about a year ago. Each spring, summer and autumn she had ever lived through had been filled with the process of harvesting, tilting and planting, waiting and then repeating that cycle time and again.

She was well aware of how much labour went into each of them. Especially harvesting, which had a limit of 4 months after it was ready, before it would die in the field. It was tiresome work with a sickle which took an eternity as you constantly had to cleave, bend, pick up and move into a new position to repeat it time and again.

The reaper machine cleaved through a huge section of the large field as easily as as a knife did meat. And it did not stop not even for the harvest to be put into position.

Instead the cut wheat fell on the large metal plate and was pushed off to the side by the man with the pitchfork,stacking into piles on the ground.

A couple more farm hands quickly followed up behind and began to gather and bind them into piles, upon which other farmhands came and carried them away as the binders moved on to binding the next in line.

And the machine just kept going.

In less than 200 seconds, it had already cut more wheat than a full farm of 14 farmhands could have done in a day.

It was mind boggling.

"I'm going to guess that's an impressive upgrade."

She turned around dumbfounded, and stared at young Flint.

So did the lord sitting at his other side, who looked at him as if he had suddenly asked him to cut off his own cock and feed it to geese.

The king gave the explanation before she had to thankfully.

"FOR THOSE AMONGST MY LORDS WHO ARE NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE SPEED OF WHICH THE PROCESS OF HARVESTING IS DONE, THE SHORT OF IT IS THAT THIS METHOD IS ABOUT 40 TIMES FASTER, AND REQUIRES FAR LESS MEN THAN DOING IT WITH SICKLES BY HAND."

"BY USING THE REAPER MACHINE, WORK THAT WOULD REGULARLY TAKE WEEKS OR MONTHS, NOW ONLY TAKES A DAY OR TWO. WHICH NOT ONLY DECREASES THE TOTAL AMOUNT OF WORK EACH FARM HAS TO DO, THUS ALLOWING MEN TO SPEND FAR MORE TIME ON OTHER PRODUCTIVE THINGS BEYOND SIMPLY FARMING DAY IN AND DAY OUT, BUT IT ALSO MEANS THAT EVERY FARM NOW REQUIRES FAR LESS TOTAL AMOUNT OF MEN TO WORK EFFECTIVELY."

He motioned northwards with his cane, where other farms, all with cleared fields.

"THIS MAKES ESTABLISHING NEW FARMS A FAR EASIER ENDEAVOUR THAN IT HAS EVER BEEN BEFORE! IN MY PERSONAL DOMAIN AROUND WINTERFELL, USING THE SHEER AMOUNT OF MANPOWER THAT HAS BEEN FREED UP, I'VE ALREADY ESTABLISHED THE FOUNDATIONS FOR 427 NEW FARMS ALL IN ALL. EACH OF WHICH WILL ALSO ADOPT THE REAPER MACHINE TO HELP WITH WORK."

That… That was a staggering number of new farms. Around the village of mormont where she had been born there was around 30 farms.

According to her maester, there was around 1400 farms in the entirety of her lands.

That meant that all these new farms around winterfell was around… One fourth? Yes one fourth of the number of all farms in the entire Dawnforest.

Gods Mighty that was a massive increase in farms and food.

"AND IT DOESN'T END THERE MY LORDS, AS I HAVE NO LESS THAN 4 MORE GREAT DEVICES TO MAKE FARMING EASIER, FASTER AND MORE PRODUCTIVE!"

What? He had MORE devices like this?

If the lords gathered had focused upon their king when he became the speech, they now followed him with the focus of a cat on the prowl. Every eye was locked on him, waiting for what new he had to say.

"I'M AM SURE EACH OF YOU ARE EAGER TO LEARN WHAT THESE OTHER DEVICES ARE."

"HOWEVER."

He motioned to the field where the reaper was nearing the end and was turning around to go back to the other side of the field to begin harvesting the next row of wheat.

"THAT WILL HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL THE REAPER MACHINE HAS FINISHED WITH A LARGER PART OF THE FIELD AS THE MACHINE IN QUESTION WILL BE FOCUSING ON TILLING."

Well at least he understood what the new device would be then. She had used a plough all her life. Presumably it would simply be a more efficient plough to till the earth.

"FOR NOW, WE SHALL FOCUS ON ANOTHER DEVICE, NOT RELATED TO FARMING BUT INSTEAD THE HUNT!"

A couple of men wearing Steel Lobster armor walked up to the king, holding something made of wood in their hands, as several others carried what she recognized as a archery target a bit of a distance away from the king.

"I HAVE BEEN ASKED BY MANY OF MY LORDS, WHY I CALLED THE NEW FORM OF BOW I DEVELOPED BEFORE THE LAST WAR, HUNTING BOWS, WHEN THEY WERE CLEARLY MEANT FOR PUNCHING THROUGH MAIL!"

Yes, she recognized it now, it was hunting bows, like the ones the army had used.

The men stepped up and stood besides the king as they took aim towards the target.

"THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION IS THIS LITTLE DEVICE. THIS IS WHAT I WAS AIMING FOR WHEN I DESIGNED THE EARLY HUNTING BOWS. NOW MEN, FIRE AWAY."

The two men did indeed fire. The bolt hit the target. Then they made a quick motion near the back of the hunting bow and it fired again. Another set of bolts flew. And as quickly as their first motion a third set flew. And another. Only after 6 sets did the men stop.

And began to put more bolts into the top, where a small thin box was fastened.

As they began to fire on the targets a second time, the king continued.

"THESE NEW HUNTING BOWS AS YOU CAN SEE, CAN BE LOADED WITH NO LESS THAN 6 BOLS WHICH CAN BE FIRED OFF IN RAPID SUCCESSION WITHOUT NEEDING TO RELOAD FOR EACH SHOT. UNFORTUNATELY, THIS WEAPON IS EFFECTIVELY USELESS FOR WAR, AS THE DRAWBACK IS THAT IT HAS FAR LESS POWER THAN THE SINGLE ARROW VERSION."

"HOWEVER, AS THE NAME IMPLIES, THE PURPOSE OF THIS WEAPON IS NOT WAR, BUT HUNTING. BARRING MAMMOTHS, THIS WEAPON IS CAPABLE OF RAPIDLY AND ACCURATELY KILL ANY ANIMAL IN THE NORTH, WHETHER THEY BE BEARS, WOLVES, DIREWOLVES, SHADOWCATS, BOARS OR WILD HOUNDS."

"ALSO, UNLIKE BOWS, THEY ARE EASY TO FIRE FROM HORSEBACK, WHICH MAKES HUNTING FAR EASIER FOR ANY LORD WHICH HAS A STURDY AND FAST HORSE."

"THAT ALSO LEADS ME TO MY FIRST DECREE TODAY REGARDING LORDLY LAWS. ANY NOBLE ABOVE THE RANK OF MASTER, IS ENTITLED TO 5 OF THESE HUNTING WEAPONS FROM THE CROWN IF HE SO DESIRES. HE NEED ONLY TO ASK, AND I SHALL SEND IT TO HIM BY HORSE, OR YOU CAN TAKE THEM WITH YOU AS YOU LEAVE WINTERFELL."

As the two armored men bowed to the seats and left the field, as well as the target being taken away by the men who had carried it here, Lyanna heard a lot of mumbling all around her. Happy mumbling.

"Now that's more like it." Lord Flint proclaimed.

"A real practical weapon for hunting. Not to mention that those Fucking Barbarians beyond the wall don't wear armor. This will let us slaughter them like seals."

The lord at his other side(Who wore black with a white weirwood with a sword on it) nodded in agreement.

"With this we can begin to cull the direwolves far easier than before. Why, if we also use the king's armor it would make the hunts far less dangerous too."

Well, it was something at least. Hunting as a sport did not appeal to Lyanna, but this was the North. And murdering creatures for food and fur was important if you wanted to survive in the North. And if the king made that easier? Well so much better.

The king let the lords talk as the next piece was brought out.

This time a it was a massive bronze tank with an open top, pointed botom that was mounted on top of a wooden floor with wheels. The whole thing looked like a giant dark orange barrel.

She could tell it was filled by something, but she wasn't sure what it was. Maybe sand?

"AND HERE WE HAVE A DEVICE TO DEAL WITH ONE OF THE THINGS THAT HAS KILLED COUNTLESS MEN THROUGH HISTORY. NAMELY BAD WATER. FOR THIS IS MY WATER CLEANER. AS YOU CAN ALL SEE, IT'S A BRONZE BARREL WITH POINTED END UNDERNEATH. INSIDE OF IT, THERE IS A LAYER OF CLOTH AT THE BOTTOM, THEN ABOVE THAT A LAYER OF CHARCOAL, AND ABOVE THAT A LAYER OF GRAVEL AND FINALLY SAND ON THR TOP."

He gave a nod to a set of 7 men who carried buckets filled with something that might have been pure mud based on the color. The men also carried a set of stools which they placed on the side of the barrel then stepped up on.

"IN THESE BUCKETS ARE EXTREMELY FILTHY WATER, DIRECTLY FROM THE RIVER BENEATH A TOWN ON THE WHITE KNIFE. NOW OBSERVE AS IT IS POURED INTO THE WATER CLEANER."

The men began pouring the buckets of the shitty water into the tank, while one of them placed a large glass tankard under the pointy end.

After a short while water began to flow out of the bottom, and into the glass. It took a bit of time before the tankard was filled, and when it was the king lay his cane leaning against the barrel as he took the tankard in hand and held it up so those near could see.

There was not a hint of filth in it.

"AS YOU CAN SEE, THE VARIOUS LAYERS INSIDE THE WATER CLEANER HAS PICKED UP AND REFUSED TO LET ANYTHING BUT PURE WATER FLOW THROUGH IT. PURE, SAFE AND DRINKABLE WATER FROM BENEATH A TOWN."

Then the king drank the entire thing in one go.

Stunned silence.

Then he went right back to talking, as if he had not done something that should have doomed him to shitting himself to death.

"NOW I KNOW THAT ALL OF US LIKES CLEAN WATER, AND WANTS ONE OF THESE IN OUR HOMES. BUT THAT IS HARDLY THE END OF WHAT I HAVE PLANNED FOR THIS KIND OF FILTER. I INTEND TO MAKE A MUCH LARGER VERSION, ONE THAT WOULD ALLOW CLEAN WATER ON SUCH A SCALE, THAT IT WILL ALLOW EVERY SINGLE TOWN AND CITY IN THIS KINGDOM TO HAVE CLEAN WATER FOR IT'S INHABITANTS."

Then as everyone was staring at him, he nodded to the men around him and they carried away the tank, the buckets and the stools.

The king kept showing a number of other inventions, but nothing which compared to the sorcery of turning mud to drinking water.

The closest was the simple barrel trap which allegedly was easily capable of killing 20-30 rats in one night.

Still, he kept on showing off his inventions, until finally the field behind him was reasonably cut away.

Lyanna had expected that this would be the moment when he brought out his new plough, as he walked a bit into the now cut field and looked around, but there she was wrong.

Instead, the king gave the order to "BRING OUT THE DRAKES."

What the hell a drake was she wondered, until the king pointed to the south where quite a sight was being pulled across the plain.

A longship, being carried and pulled across wooden logs. With a dragon head prow, she assumed that this was the drake the king had meant. That was wrong as it turned out.

"THIS MY LORDS, IS A LONGSHIP FROM THE THREE SISTERS, CAPTURED AND DONATED TO ME BY HOUSE LOCKE FOR THIS DEMONSTRATION."

"AND THESE-" He motioned in the opposite direction, where a group of soldiers were pushing a group of strange contraptions. Long log like pieces of metal mounted on two large wheels each.

"ARE DRAKES. THEY ARE THE MOST POWERFUL SIEGE AND NAVAL WEAPONRY THAT HAS EVER BEEN, AND WILL EVER BE CREATED."

Well that was a bold statement if she had ever heard one.

As the men made sure to point it towards the longship 200 yards away, they began to insert dragonpowder as well as large balls of iron using some long poles that had a strange piece on the front of it.

"NOW, BE AWARE THAT THESE WEAPONS ARE LOUD, SO IF YOU HAVE WEAK OR SENSITIVE EARS, I RECOMMEND COVERING YOUR EARS DURING THIS PART. AS FOR THE DEMONSTRATION, OBSERVE."

The King himself handed both his cane and his metal cone over to a couple of aides and covered his ears.

Lyanna did as well, and so did the smarter lords lords. Many did not.

The men behind the drakes lighted torches, and lit something at the end of the metal logs.

A short fizzle of fire as a rope was lit alight.

There was indeed a large sound, a crack which made her recall hearing the shieldbreakers during the first battle of the bloody hill.

Only way louder and much closer.

She uncovered her ears, and heard swearing from several of the lords. She ignored that, and turned to look at the ship.

It wasn't completely torn apart, but there was massive holes in it which even she who had only sailed 3 times in her life, and had little knowledge about them, realised would sink any ship.

And from that distance too.

She understood the implications of it. Judging by all the gaping mouths, the rest of the north did as well.

"AS YOU ALL KNOW BY NOW, I INTEND TO SAIL AGAINST THE THREE SISTERS IN THE NEAR FUTURE, AND WHEN WE DO, WE SHALL SAIL ON WAR GALLEYS, EQUIPPED WITH THIS KIND OF WEAPONRY. WE SHALL OBLITERATE THE PIRATES OF THE EAST ONCE AND FOR ALL, TURN THEIR HATED SHIPS TO SPLINTERS, AND THEIR HATED FORTRESSES TO DUST! LATER WE SHALL SAIL AGAINST THE WEST AS WELL, THOUGH THE PREPARATIONS FOR THAT IS STILL YEARS AWAY.

"FOR NOW THOUGH, WE SHALL MOVE ON TO THE REST OF THE FARMING TOOLS I PROMISED YOU AT THE START OF THIS SHOW."

After the sheer power that was the Drakes, the sight of Discs tilling the earth like it was nothing, the seed drill which would eliminate birds stealing seeds and make planting much easier and more consistent, the kings explanation of how they would use the power of rivers to power mills to ground grain into it's malleable stage and thresher machines to tresh at far faster speed than any humans, seemed pretty mundane by comparison.

Last edited: Nov 25, 2019

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Nov 26, 2019

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#693

From builder of Roads far and wide, to King of the Vale and mountains high.

From the two tailed white lion on the Scarlet red, to sky blue falcon soaring against the moon on sky blue thread.

Through your life, you made roads, a dozen kinds, a hundred years, all throughout the Broad Face of old.

Now it's time to do it again, but across the dales of Mountains and Vale.

Roads of granite, cement and gravel, roads of bricks and stone, roads for all both knights and smallfolk, roads for travel and for trade, roads to make a nation whole.

To guard the roads, a company of winged knights, 7 men to guard the Crown, 70 men to lead in war, and 700 men to kill all who threatens the lands of mountain and vale.

The dragonstone you will need, claim it, before the stag can take it first, sand and ashes from molten stone is your friend.

The land will bloom, the slopes are green, the buildings tall, the center city rich, a city of blue and white.

Across the sea, a threat of bronze, a broken land of stars.

The few remaining will flee the doom, across the sea to western shores, guard them, shield them, make them yours.

In your seat, the Rainbow sept, the beating heart of the Seven's faith on Westeros.

Do not forget your oaths, the ones as king as well as knight, protect the weak, shield the helpless, protect all women. Uphold the king's peace, stay just through the bitter taste of betrayal, be kind to those beneath you, learn wisdom from your failures, love your people like yourself, build foundations for the future, do not not fear the end for all the world must die.

How you die has little meaning, how you live will be your fate.

King of Knights and King of Roads.

High as honor.

Stone… 8 i think? Seriously why does this matter?

So some stones in the shivering sea might have predicted some future events, what does that matter to us? We live on the fucking triplets, Ruto. NOTHING in the civilized world affects us.

Why in God's seven holy names Harrald founded a university here i dont get, but at least we poor bastards kicked here gets some peace and quiet usually. Now we get a damned imperial decree to decode the meaning of some ancient stones dating back to the start of the age of marvels. And get it done in less than half a year. No pressure or anything, just get it done scribblers.

Great, perfect, except for the fact that the majority of what these stones tell us is random facts of history which anyone with any ANY knowledge of any of the kingdoms mentioned already knows.

So the vale has roads? No shit it does. Let me tell you Ruto, i've seen the vale's roads, they ain't any better than any other roads in westeros, there's just a lot more of them than anywhere else.

The north has good agriculture? You don't bloody say. Truly, these stones are priceless relics. Or they were discovered centuries too late to make any difference.

Seriously Ruto, i have nothing to do with my time, and i yet what little i can actually do here on these islands is infinitely more interesting for me than these rocks and their half true prophecies.

I'd also like to note that for all you guys pissing yourselves about of some fucking invasion of dragon riders from the sunset sea, these rocks didn't predict the Great Westerosi War in any way from what i've seen.

And given that more died in those 4 years of war than in the entirety of the decades of destruction, you'd think it would have gotten at least one mention In these rocks of the future. But there is none. At all. Instead it just skips from the early Marvel era period, straight to this conflict, which we only have one stones dating claiming is around the corner.

If it is that date at all, given that as others helpfully pointed out in other translations, we don't even have a definite date from when these rocks were written. They could have been written 180 years before the age of marvel began for all we know, and maybe the dragon war was something that was foretold to happen in the aftermath of valyria.

Not a good hypothesis, but nothing proves that this isn't the case.

I have better things to do with my time than break my head on these rocks. If her highness wants my head for that, then she can bloody well send someone to do it. I don't give a shit anymore.

If she even cares we exists anyway, here on the edge of the world. We haven't gotten a ship sent from the westeros in 14 years, other than the ship with the records and basic translation.

No one cares about us Ruto. Not our Queen, not Westeros, no one in the empire. We're three small rocks in the middle of an endless sea.

I'm not spending my final years worrying over some damned rocks on the opposite end of the world for an empire that couldn't care less if we sank into the sea.

Also, congratulations on your grandson's marriage in Leng. I hope he does a better job as prince than i did.

Sincerely your friend, Arthur Hoare, Head of the imperial university of the Triplets.

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Nov 26, 2019

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Kingofwinter

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Dec 9, 2019

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#725

"The highest Rank of Lords shall be the High-Lords, who rule over a full province, directly under them in rank are first and foremost anyone who carry the title of lord, but also Counts, who rule a town and it's subsequent lands. Equal in rank to Counts, and with all the privileges and duties as the Townlords are the Clan Lords, the heads of the clans of the Wolfswood and the Mountains."

Each Lord are as they have always been in regards to law, and rule the same land as they always have, however, from now on, no lord can swear to another lord. A lord swears fealty to either a High-lord, or to their Monarch Directly."

"Beneath the lords are the Masters, however, due to the changes to the Levy system, there will be another lordly rank above them. Namely that of Barons. Unlike all other lordly ranks, the title of Baron is not hereditary, but instead reliant upon how many Cavalrymen they are able to raise for times of war. Any lords who have the capacity to raise 25 Heavy Cavalrymen, will have the title of Baron, with all the privileges that comes with it, including hunting bows, the right to be tried by the king and not by their overlord, as well as a spot at the University of Winterfell."

"The census for how many men each baron can raise will be done by my counters each cycle in the second year of spring, summer and autumn. If the autumn is so short that the cannot be held, then the next one will be held next spring."

"Now that we have established the new ranks, i think it is high time we get around to granting titles to my subjects."

Finally.

The King had gone on and on about reforms, duties, this "University of Winterfell"(He still wasn't sure how it differed from the Tower in old town.) and other meaningless crap he couldn't care less about.

When he had come to the capital from skagos, he had hoped that the visit of fealty to the now unchallenged king of the North would be short, simple and to the point.

It had been anything but.

For weeks they had spent time in the Warm Castle, feasting each night, drinking the sweet drink the mainlanders called mead.

It had been an enjoyable experience, with good stable food, decent skalds(one of them had even been a fellow Stoneborn!) and hunts for those that wanted them.

He knew the other lords was getting tired of feasts every night, but not him. This winter had been a mild one, and thankfully there had been no old men who had to be slaughtered for meat, but he had eaten enough manflesh in his years not to complain at a good meal.

You could NEVER have too many good meals in your life.

What he was worried about was first and foremost the situation back home, and secondly the duties the king was about to foist upon him.

House Magnar of Kingshouse had been the only one of the four lords of Skagos to have sent any representatives to Winterfell. Namely their Lord, old Stygar Magnar. He was old enough that if he died during the trip there would be no great loss. He hadn't been a warrior in over a decade.

His son would simply take over the rule he had been invested within his absence and become the new Lord permanently.

This was a good time for house Magnar to gain a new, more vigorous leader. As was often the case come spring, there had been raids between the Magnar and the Crowl was fighting as usual over the best grazing lands for their unicorns and goats.

They always did that in spring, when recovering from winter. Usually there would just be some skirmishes, the borders would stabilize as the grass came back in force, and there became enough for everybody. This year though, one Crowl boy had gotten an arrow through the eye during a raid, and it seemed a large scale fight would happen as a result. Those were never good. Even when you won, there was huge amount of dead warriors and Unicorns.

Not something that anyone wanted right after winter. But honer demanded the Crowls avenge their dead, and the magnar had to protect their own.

Then the message came that The Stark in Winterfell had finally triumphed over the Flayed Kings once and for all.

Stygar had understood what that meant. For the North, for Skagos, for house Magnar.

If the King was summoning the Stoneborn Lords to swear fealty directly, something they had not done in centuries, then there was plans for skagos. Maybe the King of Winter wanted to put the island to use.

He had.

Gods he had.

In any case, this was not the time to turn his nose at the King's summons. If there truly were no kings left but the one in winterfell, then it meant that there was nothing preventing the king from sending some ships with a half a thousand men to hammer any disobedience into the ground.

They had done that before. The Magnar and Crowl could raise around 300 or so men each. The king had that number many ten folds.

The Direwolf had Iron jaws. He knew too many of the old songs to not understand the danger challenging them posed.

So he had gone to winterfell with a group of men, gone to a knee, swore his fealty and been accepted into the fold.

Then rather than being allowed to go on home, he had instead been forced to stay, have to tell the king all about Unicorn breeding(could they be breed with other animals like goats or horses? How many can breed each year? What sort of terrain do they need to live?) and all there was to know about

Stoneborn life.

The King had been polite, eager and genuinely interested in skagos.

No doubt he was planning to use the island for one of his plans for remaking the north.

The kings promise during the show that he would eventually have Drakes which would be able to fire harpoons gave him a pretty good idea what exactly his plans for his home was. He would certainly not be one to complain if the king remade the Skagosi fleet as an armada of whaling ships though.

"Firstly, we have Donny Dustin, my Loyal Lord of Barrowton, now High-lord of the province of the Barrowlands and Count of the city of Barrowton. Step forward."

What he was more worried about was that the king was undoubtedly going to make him the High-Lord of Skagos.

That would mean full war with all the three other lords of Skagos; Crowl, Skane and Stane. None of them would bend their knees to him without a massive campaign to force them to their knees.

He was WAY too old for this shit. His son would relish in all the fighting though he had no doubt.

Donny Dustin, lord of a land of useless graves stepped forward and bent the knee before the King, who bent slightly and attached a small shield like piece of steel to Dustin's Coat.

"Now rise, High-Lord of the Barrowlands."

As he did, and walked away looking rather smug about himself, Stygar got a good look at the shield attached to his clothing. It was engraved with two crossed battle axes and a crown above that. So, basically just his family coat.

It made sense that these "Badges of office" would just be that, simple and easy to understand, he had just… Expected something more impressive he supposed.

The king could at least have painted them. The mainlanders loved to paint. They painted their houses, their seats, signs, pretty much everything.

He had 12 painted shields. The king had a hundred in this hall alone. He could have used them to give these badges some flair.

"Next we Have my Lady of Bear Island, Sansa Woodfoot. Step forward."

Women rulers. Now that was something else. Now, he didn't buy into the nonsense the mainlanders said that women couldn't fight. Put a spear and a shield in a woman's hands and she'd murder you as easily anyone else.

But ruling? The Gods had made men to rule, to govern and be the leader of the family. That was simply the natural order, the way the Gods intended. It was the way of things.

Somehow, on the mainland, it was flipped. Women weren't allowed to fight, but they inherited if there were no sons. Insanity.

The same boring short ceremony repeated itself.

The king proclaimed her High-Lord of Bear Island.

The next was the Mailed hand Lord, who was proclaimed High-Lord of the Wolfswood, and ruler of all the nobles there that wasn't Clans.

After him, the man with the Strange fish. Apparently they used to be Kings down south somewhere. Yeah, because who wouldn't want to be ruled by a family called the Fishers?

Anyhow, the fisher King was declared Highlord over the Stoney Shore. Wherever that was.

After him was the man with the Grinding teeth and the horsehead. He became High-Lord of the Rills.

Next was The Stuttering idiot a head taller than anyone else. He became lord of the last Heart, which was misleading. After, all there were settlements at the wall was there not?

After the man in brown with the large horned animal on it, the one that was so good to eat.

He became the high-lord of Hornwood, which brought memories of ben with unicorn heads hammered unto them and nailed up on trees as warning. He wondered if they did the same with other animal horns in hornwood.

After that there was a Man with the name Flint, who got the cheerful name of High-lord of Widows Watch.

Then the Dwarf in green who looked like he would buckle over at any time. He became High-lord of the Neck, the land where the hammer had fallen so long ago that no man could count the years.

After the Dwarf there was The man with the Frozen Throne on his chest, who became the High-lord of Frosthold.

Then the only Lord who had actually talked to him at all during his stay here, the one in black with the red Kraken on his clothing.

He became High-Lord of Cape Kraken.

Styggarr wondered how many of these provinces were jsut named after a local lord rather than something sensible like the land itself, like Skagos was.

Speaking off…

"And finally amongst the High-Lords we have Styggarr Magnar, lord of Kingshouse. Step forward."

He did just that.

As he stepped foreward, he noticed a LOT of angry looks and muttering. The Stoneborn was not well liked on the mainland. That only one of the lords had spoken to him in a real conversation in all his time here was proof of that.

Someone had to rule Skagos though, and as he was the only Lord from The island who had come, he got the title. Suck on that Crowl.

It was not the most glorious of ways to earn a title, but he was an old man too old to fight, who had survived yet another winter. More glory was not his destiny.

As he knelt, the king took out the final one of the box he kept the small shields in. He got a quick glimpse of the design before the king pinned it on his cloak. As expected it's engraved design was a steel Lobster, with a harpoon in it's grip.

A symbol made in happier days when there was still Kings on Skagos.

"Now rise, Styggarr Magnar, my High-Lord of Skagos."

As he rose, and went back to his spot, the king continued.

"And now that we shall continue with Lordly titles."

Dec 20, 2019

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#739

The North, Winterfell

King Brandon Stark, 38th of his name, The Architect.

brandon colors

I sat in my High Seat in the feasting hall, with my new wife at my side and all the nobility of the realm feasting in the grandest feast ever seen in this corner of the world.

I knew my lords had gotten tired of regular meat, mead and grain-based diet over the course of around one month of feasting. Which worked just well for me, as that had made them way more hungry for something different, which tonight I granted them.

I had never been a great chef in my previous life. But I was a farmer, and there were things I knew how to make. Pancakes and waffles would probably be my most lasting culinary addition to northern cuisine. Well, that hamburgers and pizza.

Hamburgers, as I had expected, had been a hit amongst my soldiers. More than a few had used money from their own pay to eat every time they came to the capital, at some of the food stands I had introduced in Wintertown. It had been an experiment to see how well the common populace would take to the medieval equivalent of fast food.

It had been a relative success. Well, the burgers anyway. The pizza? Not so much.

Well, at least not amongst my smallfolk. My nobles though, fucking loved it. The fact that the pizza I served at the castle did not skimp at all with the real genuine spices, might have had something to do with the different reception.

Anyhow, my lords gorged themselves on pizza with delicious spices from sarnor, pancakes, and waffles made from sugar from the summer islands, along with honey and blueberry from the North. And along with that was regular northern delicatesses, such as honeyed Chicken, bear flanks and a couple of hunted boars my army had been kind enough to come home with earlier today.

Goddamn, it was good to be in the top 1%. This feast had all its own cost me a whopping 200 000 Silver coins.

Unlike my plentiful but dull feasts(exclusively made from the harvest that had been paid to me as taxes), it was not something I could afford every day.

Still, 200 000 silver coins were a minor part of my budget. Far less than I used on other things anyway.

In any, it had all been worth it, for this, as I enjoyed a truly well-made pizza, Good northern mead(if there was one native foodstuff I was gonna promote the hell out off, it was northern mead, the stuff was fucking great) and a room full of sounds from happy, content Lords.

The only thing that could possibly ruin it was the return of the aching in my leg, as the painkiller tom had given me in the morning had finally begun to ebb out.

There was no way I would have been halfway as dignified as I had been today if I couldn't have ignored the pain in my leg. That was going to mean a morning of pure agony on the morrow, but that was the price of appearing regal.

"So, lord Husband, I hear you made the recipe for these yourself?"

I was dragged out of my musings by my Wife of two hours.

The newly minted queen was eating a burger, with a strong focus on mustard and strong and hot spices from the east. She looked at me with a curious expression, chewing large bits of the burger she had ripped out like a lizard lion.

"Aye, I did. Though Truth be told, it wasn't that hard a concept to make. Just knead mead down, cook it and slap it between the bread crown and bottom and that's about it. I left the spices to my cooks, who are more knowledgeable about such matters than i."

She nodded thoughtfully like a scholar contemplating a clear well produced an argument. Then she loudly ripped another huge piece out of the burger and chewed it before swallowing and replying.

"One would think My lord Husband, that if it was as simple as that, Northern chefs would have thought about it earlier. But I'll admit I'm no expert in bread. We have no such thing in the neck."

Oh right, they weren't farmers.

"Aye, one would think so. But as I've come to learn my Lady, there are many obvious things that people should have figured out centuries ago but have not. It's like the stirrup, a truly simple piece of design, yet it wasn't before the Andals came across the sea that we got it in Westeros."

"That's the piece one uses to fasten one's feet while riding right?"

From what I 'dd heard from my Bride over the last couple of weeks, she was clever enough, but she was also not learned about a lot of stuff that other noble families would take for granted. Like anything related to riding, or farming.

"Yes. Without it, true cavalry is impossible. So it is a party of men riding too. Can you imagine every single noble learning to hold themselves on their horses with nothing but their legs? Any minor bump in the road would throw them off."

Well, that wasn't actually true, but it was a good myth to build up. To lessen the myth of andal supremacy and military victories simply because of steel.

"Sounds like it would make riding useless."

"Well on a large scale. But you could still use them for farming or carrying a cart. Or a single rider with a message if ravens aren't in supply.

She nodded.

"Makes sense. In any case, this is some tasty food you've made here. And easy to eat while on the move too."

Aye, that it was. Easy to make, tasty and delicious to eat.

As she ripped into another burger, I once again took in my new wife's appearance.

Sansa was a pretty woman, though in the sense that she was an actual woman, not a teenager.

Short, with one of the largest sets of Hips I had seen so far in Westeros as well as an ass to go with it, along with relatively large breasts.

Her face was pretty, with large full lips, narrow nose, and a set of large green eyes. And again, she was an adult woman as opposed to the young teenagers and children the majority of the rest of the potential brides.

That 9 in ten had been less than 16 had narrowed my options down a lot.

I wish I could say I had married her for her personality, but that would be a lie. I had not married her due to her looks either, however. Nor due to her being the Sister of one of my high-lords.

I had married her to breed more magic into my bloodline, for which house reed was the clear optimal choice given their history and their current lord(Sansa brother was either a greenseer or a Stoner. One of the two it was, given the way he tended to space out when I talked to him to look at the wall behind me).

Which when phrased like that, it made me sound way more like rhaegar than I was comfortable with, but I doubt I could make this into anywhere near large a disaster as the prince of dragonstone had made his situation.

After all, it was hardly the worst reason for which bride I chose. The insanely stupid reasons so many of the other ladies had gotten engaged with random lordlings son was proof enough of that.

It also made me look way more compassionate than I had intended, marrying a woman thrown out of her dead husband's home and sent back to her family home.

I really needed to make a law like Jaeharys Widow law.

Yet another thing to do in an endless sea of things to do.

Yet for once, the fact I had a thousand things to do still, did not bother me.

I finally had made real, genuine progress here, the tech was rising, the forges at wintertown was getting better and better at their tasks, real farm tools were being made, lent out, sold and used all around the surrounding land to gather in the quickest harvest ever in the north.

Spring still had shown no signs of ebbing, so hopefully, there were years left before summer and the inevitable return of winter.

Farms were being built, the water pipes were being laid, and once that was done, I could go about making a real city around Winterfell, of which Wintertown would simply be the eastern district. That was not something I could begin before I had a large source of water, however.

The insane amount of workers I had gotten from just the province of Winterfell was also staggering. Far more than I had anticipated.

Which worked just fine for me. More workers were not something I would ever have enough of.

The world was finally changing. Now I just had 3 major things to deal with, and I could deal with everything in my own time.

Firstly, I needed to deal with the direwolves. Getting a stable captive population for my wargs was going to be a challenge. But that honestly was nowhere near as big a challenge as it would be to wipe out the wild direwolves permanently.

It had taken the canon starks millennia to do that, and even with my more advanced tech, I doubted my grandson would have managed it by the end of his reign. The north was wast, and the area the beasts could hide in was insane.

That wild direwolves had to be wiped out was not a question. They were an enormous problem for building infrastructure in the north.

There were 3 major factors that had prevented the starks from turning the north into Russia.

The first was winter.

The second was spring rain and floods.

And the third was the direwolf.

The direwolf was an apex predator, the likes of which no living land creature existed back on earth.

The closest comparison I could make would be to the orca, the great killer whales. Unlike orcas though, the direwolves lived on land. And they were a plague upon humankind and civilization. Bigger and stronger than the African lion, and with the kind of social structure that came with wolves, alongside an intellect only below humans, giants, and Children of the Forest, the Direwolf was the Alpha predator of Westeros.

They had defined the region of the North in a way no other animal came even close to. Travel in the north was dangerous stuff, something no one could do alone. It was so bad, that one of the duties of the Elites was to act as guards for local farmers when they needed to make the trips into their local towns to sell stuff.

Which came with a whole host of other problems. In particular that other than their local town, Winterfell, and sometimes a port town, the local elites did not have much interest in going above and beyond for their charges when it came to escorting them far and wide.

It also meant that instead of a stream regulars coming into town, they came in clusters, as huge caravans which happened maybe once a month. Two for places around the big towns.

That was not good enough for me.

And god help the farmer who was one day too late with the harvest. He either had to wait one more month to sell his goods or not at all.

And then there was the fact that in many, many, many cases, elites would take under the table cuts to protect the farmers traveling. That was strictly illegal, as guaranteeing safe and free travel was part of the elites feudal duties, but no matter how many heads you cut off for the crime, there would always be more, and many who would never be caught.

Brandon the Battleborn had formed the first true northern Standing army, not only to protect his borders but to kill this problem once and for all by having an actual army take over these duties.

That was the same road I planned to go down, but that was only temporary. In the long term, I wanted farmers to be able to safely travel my roads alone, without having to fear the direwolves.

The wolves also prevented singular farms from being built, as farmers had to cluster together for safety.

In any case, even with repeating crossbows, that was work which would take decades upon decades. This was an age where the direwolf population was strong after all, not in its twilight years.

The second large question I needed to deal with, was giants and mammoths.

Getting the giant clans incorporated under my banner was going to be one massive pain in the ass, and quite frankly, one I might very well fail at.

And if I did… Well, that would be a blow, but frankly, the giants were not a resource I could not do without. They would be nice to have, and it would be great saving a sentient race. But as a resource, they would be volatile, and I would need to set up systems to both incorporate them into the north, as well as making sure they and The humans of the North did not come to blows. That would be a challenge for one man, much less making it so it would continue after my death.

Mammoths though was a different story. They were a resource that had everything going for them, and I would be damned before I let them out of my grasp.

Domesticated elephants would have been an invaluable resource all on their own. But the mammoth was far more than that.

Literarily.

I had known that mammoths were big. Bigger than the African elephant. But fuck me, the beasts of the north was in a class on their own.

The monster the Warg Jamie had brought was over 6 Meters tall and as wide as you would expect it to be. It was a colossus of muscle, fur, and HUGE tusks.

And it was tame. Like, tame as a cow. The thing showed no signs of aggression and had adapted to the work I put it to with little complaints. How much that was due to being with a warg I did not know, but it was irrelevant, as the warg combo was such a good fit I planned to use that combo exclusively for construction work.

The rest of the mammoths could be used for everything else, transport, producing amazing fertilizers, and when they died of old age, enormous amounts of meat and fur.

Still, the main focus would be for construction, and road building, and eventually my canal.

God the mammoths were good at that. Now I just needed to establish enough of them to comfortably breed. Which meant a lot of work. But it would all be worth it.

Finally, there were the islands. I had around 1400 soldiers so far. Not all equipped with my Lorica Segmentata armor yet, but they were getting there(as it had turned out, I had drastically underestimated how many more hands I would get for smithing as more and more farmhands needed more work.).

My elites composed the majority of my army, but there were also plenty of ex farmers who had signed up. Which meant the army was divided up between trained killers who just needed to get used to the restructuring, and previous smallfolk, who needed at least a year of training to really get good at murdering my enemies.

Also, I had needed to make a bit unorthodox soldier contract. Instead of serving a set number of years, the army terms went for a cycle. The army hired in spring and trained them up in that time, then after training, they did all their soldier duties in spring, summer and autumn, then in winter they served as what was effectively reserve troops that was not paid unless it was war or they served in an area with expected constant fighting(like the lands south of the wall), though they didn't get paid, the crown paid for food for both them and their families for the entire winter.

It was a risky system that I wasn't sure would work. But it would simply have to do. In winter, the North's economy essentially stood still outside coastal settlements, and the fact was I simply could not afford to pay an army when my own income tanked during the period.

I could only hope that the promise of free food would be enough to sate them in winter.

Once spring came again, they could either resign from the army with their pension payments or sign on for another term.

It wasnt the most sophisticated army structure in the world, but hopefully, it would work well enough for me not to have to fear invasions until I had really built up the north.

Also, I needed to deal with the two massive thorns in my sides, that were the three sisters and the iron islands.

Once I had 3000 men ready to go, I would take the sisters. That should be more than enough to stomp them into the ground and occupy them, while also keeping my borders safe.

Unsurprisingly, they had been taking full advantage of the final northern War and raided the entire east coast up to the wall during the absence of the fighting men. They hadn't taken on any walled settlements but countless smaller fishing villages had been sacked and their people taken as slaves.

I wanted to get a conquest going as soon as possible and obliterate this little pirate nation from the face of the world. Also, to hopefully liberate as many Northmen as I could.

Still, that was at least a year away.

As for the iron islands… Well, I would have muskets by the time we reached that conquest. A lot would probably have changed militarily by that time.

The iron islands had thankfully not raided my coast much during the war. I had been lucky enough that the New Iron Hing, Harrald Hoare, had indeed started a holy war against his own people in order to turn them to the seven.

Shockingly, the rest of the islands had risen up in revolt against him.

If I was lucky, that little civil would drag out as long as it possibly could and bleed the Islands manpower dry.

Harralds little campaign was doomed to failure, as history had proven, but hey, I would hopefully be able to take full advantage of it.

The Iron Islands, the Island of Hoare(Previously known as Great Wyk)

High King Harrald Hoare, First of His Name, the Steelhand.

Harrald 1

Axes fell, broadswords swung, a storm of sounds all around. Dying men, wounded men, men with the bloodlust, men who laughed, up on the ridge, my crossbowmen sang a song as they liked to do as they rained death from above and sent the curs to the seven hells as their song so helpfully said.

The man in front of me hit me straight on with a sword. Stupid idiot. Should have used an axe instead. Then I would have been inconvenienced at least. As it was, the blade harmlessly bounced off my breastplate as I raised my own axe and caved his skull in, cleaving the helmet in half. As I ripped it out with ease and hammered it down again, I marveled at the pattern of the axehead as it was drenched in blood.

The thousands of souls who had come to defend the honor of the drowned God had thrown themselves at the wall of steel. Unfortunately, they were armed with iron mail and axes, while my the force of house Hoare had Plated steel and steel axes.

Their pitiful archers used Longbows and iron arrows, while my crossbowmen used goat hoof levers and steel bodkin Bolts.

The battle had been joined maybe 20-30 minutes ago. They had thrown themselves at our shields 3 times, each charge is more desperate than the last. They had a shot at victory after all. I had spread my force thin with only two ranks in order to cover to the whole area from the edge of the shore to the mountain with men, while they had 4 times my number.

All they had to do was break through and slaughter me and my men from behind with their vastly superior numbers.

The lines were pushed back for the third time, leaving a huge row of dead corpses in front of my men.

It was hard to tell exactly, but I think we had slaughtered maybe 3000 so far out of the 8000 strong force of zealous smallfolk and some more religiously minded lords that still existed on the island.

As they reorganized their shaken and battered lines, I wondered if there would be a final charge before they broke.

Countless wounded men, still living, lay on the ground in front of our ranks, but we ignored them. Unless they were right at their feet, my men were instructed to let them be and be trampled underfoot in the next charge.

If they were still alive at the end, we could give them the gift of mercy once the battle had been won.

As it happened there was a final charge, but I could tell that it was over. While a chunk did charge, I also saw that many had begun the oh-so-familiar sight of rabble breaking and running away.

Many would return home to their families. If they did, they would live simple quiet lives. I had already made it common knowledge my men did not sack villages as revenge after battles. I didn't need to live off the land either, not when I had the sea and all its gifts. My ships always brought home more than enough fish to feed my city and troops many times over.

The final charge was a feeble thing, and it lasted for maybe a minute before they broke.

As they ran, I gave the signal of my hornblower to blow, and behind me, the loud overwhelming sound of an oliphant horn gave all my men the signal that they should pursue. Which they did.

They sprinted forward and cleaved down anyone who wasn't fast enough to escape them.

As for those still alive after being trampled underfoot, some of my non-soldier personel now went about and cut throats of the dying and wounded.

I wanted to go take a rest, but I was king. So none of that. Instead, I surveyed the battlefield as my men took care of our wounded and dead. There weren't many. Maybe 20 dead, and 60 wounded with anything more than scratches.

Not surprising. When men in full plate went up against men either unarmored or with simple mail, one would stomp the other into the ground. And we had. Many times now. This was my 9th great battle since I began this little crusade against the drowned god.

I had won every single battle, and I very much planned on winning the war too. Sure I had to stomp every single other island into the ground like a bent nail, but I knew history well enough to know that if I did not, all I would get out of it, was a halfhearted attempt to convert the ironborn away from their drowned demon to a more compassionate religion.

Ser Brynden, one of my commanders came running up to me with the report.

"Sire, I have the report."

As if he had something else. We had done this dance many times now.

I raised my hand for him to continue.

"We have 17 dead, and 26 men so wounded that they will not be capable of fighting for the foreseeable future. 5 with Crippling injuries."

About what I had expected. The number had decreased drastically with each fight as the army was hardened, but some of my men always died in each battle.

God. I never understood how highlords were willing to throw away the lives of their smallfolk the way they did.

I had trouble choking down that 20 of my men had died today.

As I watched, my masters tended the wounded. They had been expensive to get, but I had refused to have less than 50 of them.

25 of whom were here today. The rest was up north with the other army, dealing with the other revolt on the island.

I didn't really care about the price though. When people worked under you, you took care of them. That was just the way it was.

"When the Maesters are finished treating them, have them shipped back unto ship first. Also, tell everyone we'll be having the victory celebration back home."

He seemed taken a bit aback by that.

"We're not staying?"

"No. We killed enough today that Goodbrother can take care of the rest. We need to meet up with the rest of the army before we head to old Wyk and hammer the resistance there into the ground."

Provided the Northern Host hadn't been destroyed. It seemed rather unlikely, but I couldn't help but fear news of a shock defeat that upended all my plans.

Well, that was for later. I wouldn't get any news before I was back at the capital. For now, I headed to the raven Cages, trailed by my bodyguards all the way.

I had purposefully chosen the biggest men in the entire army for the job, and man they were a sight, 4 men over 2 meters tall, in an age where 180 cm was considered tall. Bedecked from head to heel in a revolutionary armor that encased almost their entire bodies in Steel, superior to any the world had ever seen, and armed with long steel Axes with a pattern that looked like nothing so much as valyrian steel.

It certainly made me feel smaller than I was. Not that I feared them turning on me. All four were thralls I had personally freed from chains, and one of the constants of history was that men were very, very grateful for being freed from bondage.

I found the cage marked "Shatterstone" and took it with me as I sat down on a rock as I wrote a letter.

Basically, it said; killed a huge portion of the mob, it broke, heading back to the capital. Continue the work of murdering Drowned men who will not convert.

Then I fastened it to the leg of the huge black bird before I let it fly.

As i went back to watching the sight of thousands of corpses, the wast majority having been struck down by Bolts from above, i nonchalantly asked my bodyguards. "How many you do you guys think we killed today? I'dd say 3000 or so."

"4000 I'd say." ser Walder Pike replied. "We butchered a lot more at the end when they broke." He pointed with his ax along the strand where many of my men were only now returning back after having chased a huge number down and hewn them to the floor.

"Aye," Xanadu replied in what was as close to a Jamaican accent as you would find in this world. The man stood out starkly against pretty much every single other man in the army. Taller than almost anyone else, the dark brown skin of a Summer islander was not a sight usual on the islands, not even amongst slaves.

"Our men always run like demons after the battle, to slay as many Drowned folks as possible. They would very much prefer if we could slaughter all of them I think."

Aye, that was true enough.

My men really did not like worshippers of the drowned gods. It was kinda frightening, how they had developed over the course of this campaign. At the start, they had shown reluctance to fight women on the field(no such reluctance for raping women after a storming though), and many had simply let the womenfolk who were part of these religious rabbles flee.

Now, after a bit of hardening, that reluctance had evaporated. They killed whoever I named enemy, and they did it with no complaint. No. Mercy was shown to anyone who took to the field. Not men, not women, not teenagers who were unusually zealous. All on the islands would bow before the Light of the seven.

That would have been frightening... But I had way more fighting ahead of me, so I would not complain about it.

As we began to finish up, divided up loot(my looting policies were simple, I divided out gold, silver, and other such things equally amongst my men. I got all steel, iron and non-precious metals.) and ferry back out to our ships, I let out a sigh of relief. Once again, we had triumphed.

I had banked on it, expected it, drilled for it, planned for it.

It was still a huge relief after each battle to come out victorious.

All it would take was one bad day, one day where we were crushed, and I was fucked.

But today, was not that day.

Hoare City

As we finally approached the city, the sounds that I had come to associate with the capital's seaside began to be heard across the waves. Hammers. Strong, powerful and never stopping. Many of the buildings were still under construction but for right now, the important parts were that the smithies worked, and had a roof over their heads.

As the sounds became louder and louder, I once again wondered whether I should have named the capital Hammerfall, as it seemed the most appropriate. The main reason I had not, was that there was already a town on islands named that. So I had just called it what my men called it. Hoare City. The seat of House Hoare.

It was the first true city the Iron Islands had ever had, and though it lacked many things(walls for my smithies being the most notable) it also had tons of things that the islands had never seen before.

A true water reservoir, flowing water, a sewage system I had gone to great lengths to make sure emptied FAR away from the city, a boom chain in the harbor, an actual real and massive port made to a house ships more advanced than the basic longship, several arsenals who each specialized in either galleons, trading ships, and trawlers.

But by far the most notable thing about the city was its smithies. The beating heart of all my plans, hopes, and dreams.

I had put the river flowing down from Corpse lake to the absolute limits of how far it could be pushed, but the results were, oh so worth it.

Using the water power from the strongest river on the islands, I remade the entire mouth of the river into a industrial center, full of big blast furnaces melting iron and pouring it and slag separately, powerful and never stopping Water trip hammers and all that was needed for casting as well as all that little stuff you needed for blacksmithing on a giant scale.

They spent every working hour hammering and casting iron and steel into pretty much everything under the sun. Axes, hammers, nails, knives, plates, cups, forks, bolt heads and so on. If it could be made of metal and had a use, you would find it being made here and shipped out through sea.

The Riverlands, the Westerlands and the Reach, all paid handsomely for everything I had to offer.

Not to mention the sheer quality of my army's equipment.

Whereas my fellow ironborn were running around in iron mail, my army had had full plate steel armor. Well, not full plate. There were still some things we hadn't quite Hammered out yet. Like elbow armor. It was embarrassing that my smiths still hadn't gotten a good design working on that. But hey, they were working on it, and as for the rest, it was made of Wootz steel. Or as close as I was gonna get.

My axes were also made of it, and god it was good axes.

So were my crossbow bolts, but the goat foot levers and foot stirrup was the more important innovation there. Cranequin crossbows would be coming later, provided I didn't manage to get my hands on a musket design.

One of the other Monarch had to have that surely?

So far, I had no luck with that, or in getting my hands on gunpowder, which I really needed for my mines.

In all my steel production, my lack of true innovation in mining itself really stood out. Thankfully, there was just so goddamned much iron on the islands, that despite my only contribution to mining innovation being real rails and a more efficient cart design, I had no problem pumping iron into the city to be made into something useful.

Anyhow, gunpowder was important to take into consideration. It would mean that everyone would need plate, as mail would become a worthless and actually dangerous form of armor. It also meant I would need to step up my designs to ward against gunshots, but that was for another day.

Here and now my enemy was ax-wielding ironborn. Not my fellow kings.

And if I had my way, the other kings of Westeros would be my friends into the future. There was NO future in antagonizing the mainlander kingdoms. Hell, Tyrion had flat out told me in no uncertain terms, that if I died before I wiped out the religion of the drowned god, he would take an army over to the islands, and wipe them clean of human inhabitants.

Something to avoid that was.

No, my empire would be a colonial one, in the mold of Portugal. I was very much going to make Westeros as dependent on my steel trade as possible.

Something that was no doubt going to be made easier with my vastly better ships, that pretty much dwarfed the primitive ships of all the rest

Ships and steel making. That was my trade. Or rather it had been my passion in another life and was now my bread and butter.

I could only assume my obscure talents were the reason I was here. At least I had been able to truly make the most of things with here on these islands. I also knew my own homeland's history well enough to know the way forward. Olav Tryggvason and Olav the Holy had ended Norway's Viking age and brought civilization to the North by painting the cross on the land with blood. Their own blood too, but I was going to try and avoid that fate.

All I had to do was crush the religion of the island once and for all, in a civil war, where only 3 of the islands in the kingdom was behind me. Piece of cake.

God, I missed cake. I had thankfully been able to introduce sushi(and sushi without rice at that) to this kingdom, but that was about it.

God, I missed actual food. Here it was just endless fish, meager grain food, or imported pork.

In any case the rebellion. Once I had established a true standing army(which I paid for through my awesome trade network) I had simply flat out outlawed organized religion for the drowned god and made it a crime punishable by death to be a drowned man who refused to convert the seven.

Needless to say, there had been an uproar and massive clashes between the faithful of the seven and the drowned god. The latter outnumbering the latter by a massive margin, everywhere except Hoare(previously great Wyk), Orkmont, and Fair isle.

As for lords, they were far more split. Some supported me, having accepted andals into their lands during the time the andals threw down the Greyirons.

Despite the story the drowned men liked to tell, there was actually a lot of support for the seven at this time. At least amongst the nobility. However, when the smallfolk revolted in mass, the only thing Lords could do was hide in their castles and weather the storm. Or join them to overthrow the Monarch.

Such had been the choices houses Drumm, Greyjoy, Harlaw, and Blacktyde with many of their bannermen, who had all proclaimed Lodos Greyjoy the rightful King of the Iron Islands.

I was, as they say, going to make an example out of him.

Lord Drumm had made the rather foolish opening decision to try and storm my City and end the war by taking my seat.

It had ended with 40 longships captured, and him and his entire forced dead or prisoners. Lord Drumm himself had taken a bolt to the head.

His heir had closed the gate and sent me a letter of fealty if I liberated him from the revolting smallfolk. I was going to take him up on that when the northern part of my army got back to the Capital.

As for the rest, they were gathering their forces on Pyke in preparation for a massive invasion of Hoare.

Unfortunately for them, I had informants of where they were, and when they would leave, so I would be well prepared for the invasion.

I had so many plans for this new seaborn empire of mine. But I couldn't do anything about it before I crushed this rebellion.

There seemed like there was always something more to do. A neverending list of things that needed doing, and once I had gotten one thing done, there was always something more to do.

The Westerlands, a Plain East of Sarsfield

King Tyrion Lannister, Third of His Name, The Hammer of The Andals

Tyrion

I could no be stopped, as I cleaved my way through the lines. The great red Blade cleaved through the shield wall as easy as a cat bit through a mouse neck.

I punched a hole through and laid about me with the greatsword in one hand as easy as others wielded a longsword.

Nothing they had to offer put up any resistance. To their credit, many tried attacking, instead of fleeing. I did not care.

Their attacks bounced off my plate while doing little harm. Well, those that didn't get caught on my long Norman style shield anyway. My personal kite shield had splintered in the last fight, so I was stuck with this one for now.

As I punched through the wall, my men followed behind and widened the gap. The wall buckled at this point for a moment. Then it broke.

A tide of red, yellow and grey washed forward and over the andal lines.

The lion had triumphed. But that was only the start.

As I went about cleaving sideways, men both joined me and rushed past to set up lines behind the enemy.

There would be no escape for any of these bastards.

As the lines completely began to disintegrate and men threw their weapons down and fled, they discovered to their horror that a la Lannister line had formed ranks behind them. Not the thickest line, and with obvious holes admittingly but a line nonetheless. A line they had to cross to escape to freedom.

Some escaped. Many did not, as we charged after and butchered them like sheep against the line of shields and spears.

It was a battlefield maneuver that was impossible to do with an undisciplined levy force. But as was becoming the custom across all of Westeros, levies were being replaced with standing armies. His had been the first foot force(the first true standing army was the Winged Knights of the Vale), which had scared the rivermen in supporting their boy king's call for a standing army.

Unconnected to his force was the army of the reach, founded for the same reason. Stomping invading andals shit into the ground.

Well, that was the main reason. He was also using it to finish the conquest and unification of the westerlands.

In the original time, the Kings of the Rock had needed the boost of the Andals manpower to finish the job.

However, they had been perfectly capable of doing it themselves. They just needed someone who knew how to administrate.

Thankfully, they had gotten me, instead of the used car salesman on the islands.

Now I just needed to create a bank and other institutions to help turn the westerlands into a truly modern nation.

But first… The conquest had to be done so I could protect my borders in developing the land in peace.

For that, I needed an army. So I had made one.

It had cost a fortune to buy the armor and arms from Hoare, but he had sold me them with no hesitation so long as I agreed to his price.

Damned car salesman.

As we finished up butchering the invaders, I finally got to take my helmet off and enjoy some clear air, not filtered by my helmet.

Of course, that moment of peace and quiet was spoiled by one of my lords. Lord Westerling to be exact.

"My Magyar, I have the after battle numbers for you." I sighed, but I had made this the standard procedure, so it really was my own fault.

"Begin." I sighed.

We had 247 dead, and around 800 wounded. As for-" I cut him off.

"Around 800 is not a Damned number Jaime. If you're giving a report, do it right. How many wounded did we have?"

The young lord paled for one moment at my tone, before he got back into it.

"827 wounded my Magyar, about… A total of 38 With crippling injuries.

Not the best, but it was what it was.

"Any Lords or their family members amongst the dead?"

"No. Lord Crakehall lost an eye though, but that's it from what I've heard so far."

Well, that was a pain. Crakehall was the best of what meager Cavalry I had.

Still, I dealt with Cavalry with Crossbows. Not by sending my own cavalry to counter.

"Regrettable, but at least he's alive. Give word that we rest for one day before we begin the march east."

The Lord gave a salute, then moved on.

Correcting lordlings on how to talk and do their job was not gonna make them like me, but it was necessary to hammer out an actual army.

He did not love me that one. None of my lords did. Not even my wife. That was alright though. Unlike Tywin, I could evoke fear and respect without being hated.

I would do it the Way Theon Stark did. By horribly murdering my opposition and mounting their heads along my borders. I had collected 30 759 heads of invaders so far, through 8 separate invasions not counting this one. Admittingly, a huge portion was from. Camp followers, but once the skulls had been cleaned no one was gonna be able to tell.

Once I had taken the Golden Tooth I would mount them all along the border of the Riverlands and the eastern roads.

They would serve as a warning to all future invaders.

My wife walked up to the spot I was surveying the battlefield as men harvested heads and looted corpses.

"Tyrion."

She nodded towards the guards.

"May we speak alone?"

I motioned to my guards to leave, which they did. Once we were alone, my bride of Castamere finally spoke.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine? Do I look wounded to you?"

She looked at me in disbelief as her eyes glanced down at my armor.

"You are literarily covered head to neck in Blood Tyrion. You eve have it covering half your face. Did you truly get that through the visor and breathing holes?"

Oh, that was what she was worried about. Me being drenched in blood and it had soaked me through every smaller hole in the armor.

"It's just blood," I said in an annoyed tone. "So long as I don't drink it, I'll be fine."

She rolled her eyes at me.

"Yes, and it doesn't make you look at a barbarian from the mountains at all. Being a King is also about being presentable Tyrion, if any of your men see you like that, they won't be seeing a glorious warrior, they'll think you're a madman in love with blood. Not helped by your growing collection of skulls might I add." She looked back to camp and shuddered.

"Our men are already talking about it and how you're planning to make a goblet for each soldier out of a skull. Gods the last three villages we passed through all saw those trainloads of skulls."

"I've already told you, I'm going to mount those along the border to warn future andal invaders."

"Yes, and that won't make you seem Mad at all. Not to mention that none of our Subjects will see those skulls, but the rivermen very much are. The same rivermen who, might I add, you really want to trade with."

"Yes, we need their paper industry."

"Yes and seeing almost 30 000 skulls along the border will really them love us. I don't get you lately Tyrion. You want us to unify the west under our banner, and protect the Gods. Which I'm all for, by the way. But then you want to establish great trade relations with the Andals, and make a permanent peace with the river king."

I rolled my eyes at that.

"The peace treaty is just 50 years Cerelle. Not permanent at all."

"Who fucking cares, we'll both be dead by the time that damned treaty expires. Not to mention that you made the treaty with a twelve-year-old boy. Promising not to invade the Riverlands to put an end to armies marching through it to invade us. All in exchange for some fancy parchment."

I pinched and rubbed my brow.

"Is there a point to this tangent Cerelle? I do recall how vehemently you opposed the treaty, to begin with. It's done, nothing I can do about it now."

"My point is that you don't seem to have any clear idea of what you want. Before you were crowned you wanted to make peace with the andals and steal their secrets for your own."

"Well, we already achieved that with the iron Islands and their trade."

"And we had to spend half a million lions to outfit these 9 legions of yours. In armor, by the way, that's nowhere as impressive as the one the Steelhands own men wear might I add."

"It's good steel. A purchase well worth the cost."

"I suppose it was. At least it keeps your body from getting run through in all these battles, which I am very much in favor of."

She looked at me with an exasperated look. Then it dropped as she sighed.

"Back to matter I was originally trying to tell you about, I needed to hear if you're well after the battle. We had some news from the west, it came while you were breaking through the lines, and we need you respectable and well of body and mind for it."

Ah, so the Reach's delegates had finally arrived had they?

"Ah. Alright. So, who did the Greenhand send? Please tell me it's not the Coldmoat Lion. It's such a tacky sight.

She actually chuckled at that as if it was actually funny.

"No, it's not the greenhand. It's from the Children of the Forest. They finally got off their asses to reply to your request for a meeting."

My spine went cold for a moment.

"Truly? Where? When?"

"Right now, over at the camp." She pointed behind her with her thumb. "I told them you just needed some time to clean up after the battle and then you cou-"

"Nonsense." I declared as I began to make long strides towards the camp.

"I'm am covered in the Blood of Andal scum, surely that should help prove how devoted I am to upholding the pact."

As I heard a set of footsteps beginning to follow me, I also heard a loud, annoyed groan.

The Reach, the Plain outside Tumbleton.

King Mern Gardner, Third of His Name, The Miraclehands

mern

As Lord Garth Osgrey read over the reports of the battle, I was kneeling over a man with a nasty gut wound.

The man had been stabbed during the Battle. If I had been able to pay the price Harrald had set for armor for all my men, this wound would never have happened, but I had not.

Don't whine, just do what you can. I took off the hold place bandages.

He was lucky. He had lost quite a bit of blood, but not as much as he could have had with the wound at least having been covered if not sewn together. The wound had not damaged any organs directly, nor nicked any arteries which would complicate this immensely. The sword had been prevented by the chainmail from going straight through.

If the wound did not get infected, he would live. I cleaned the wound, stitched up what I needed to and began applying antiseptic.

It was a good thing he was doped up to hell, or this entire operation would have hurt like the sky fell down on him. Because this universe was both a cruel and a charitable place, a lot of the stuff I would have used in normal operations was far more potent than on earth.

Milk of the poppy was the most blatant example. The stuff was insanely more potent than poppy milk was on earth.

So was most of the poisons I had taken a look at so far.

Other stuff stayed the same. Or close enough. My antiseptic was a mixture made from several plants which I don't think exist on earth, alongside some other ingredients that had to be mixed in a rather specific way.

I had stumbled across it in a vain attempt to recreate phenol, or better yet see if someone had created it.

Instead, I had found a workable substitute. Popular in the cities around the rhoyne, the Cess-cleaner was used by the Rhoynish to drastically reduce the smell of cesspools.

It had taken a bit of work to recreate the stuff from scroll descriptions, but I had done it. And as I had hoped, just like Phenol, the same properties that made it great for cesspools, also translated into being a fully working antiseptic.

It was the greatest discovery in the history of this world, one that had allowed me to save well over a thousand lives so far, and god knows how many more would live when my doctors were fully trained.

I was planning to turn the reach into the westerosi equivalent of kharbranth. The fact that both I and Tarvangian had a horrible dark secret about who we truly were, was not lost on me.

In any case, I was not the ruler of a small city-state. I was the Ruler of the Most powerful Kingdom in Westeros. With all the resources that came with that.

Thus in my short time here, I already had 80 men relatively well trained in the art of Medicine, and a couple of hundreds still novices.

That number would swell though. When I was done, every settlement in the reach would have a Surgeon-Doctor, that I had sworn to myself.

I might not be able to make a working penicillin that could be swallowed, but I could do this. Simply passing on all I knew would save god knows how many lives.

After i sewed the wound shut, i dipped the bandage in the antiseptic(that was the actual official name i had given it.) and tied it around him and fastened it, i finally finished, stood up and stretched.

"So how many took the offer?" I asked in a tone like I had actually been dutifully listening to everything he said for half an hour.

"296. We branded the 2000 or so others, and we'll send them back to the river."

296\. I had hoped for more.

"Settle them around… Standfast and the Red Lake. Those were hit by a smallpox outbreak recently was it not?"

"It was indeed Your Majesty."

As I walked towards the entrance of the tent, having finally finished the last of the men who needed patching, I left the room of trained but inexperienced surgeons to handle all the rest now that surgeries were done.

At the entrance, I took off my bloodstained coat, washed my hands for the final time today, and dressed in my royal coat of white and green.

My aide also handed me my imperial crown.

In design, it was a mixture between the old bronze war crown(no way in hell I was letting the flower crown tradition sticking around) of the Gardners, mixed with the reichskrone of the Holy Roman Empire.

It wasn't as overblown as the german imperial crown, but I thought it looked neat. The metal part anyway. The cloth part made it look like a glorified bathing Cap, and I needed to replace it as soon as humanly possible.

As I and Garth Osgrey walked through the path towards the field where my subjects had already looted fully, I saw the sight of the enormous funeral pyre where we had piled the andal dead. Some 9000 or so. My professional troops had proven their mettle at this engagement against the invaders.

Still, I had lost 700 men in the battle itself, and who knew how many would die of their injuries despite my best efforts.

In comparison to the way they callously dumped the entire dead invading force of andal adventures unto a pyre, they had been way more compassionate with our own dead. Ok, so it was still a mass grave, but they were allowed to rest with personal effects outside of mail, helmet, and weapon.

At least they were buried side by side in order, not thrown haphazardly into a pile.

As we passed the line of volunteer diggers from the city, Garth finally began his briefing on the city itself.

"The City itself is relatively starved after one month of siege, but thankfully it was far from reaching the point of eating its animals for sustenance. As you've commanded, we've distributed large amounts of grain and meat. In your name of course."

"How severe was the internal Damage to the City itself?"

"Well, the Andals burned every new building outside the City itself, obviously. Inside the city walls, a pretty huge section has damaged buildings and lots of burnt outhouses. A couple of their catapult shots were lit ablaze, which set alight some roofs with straw roofs, then… Well, everything spread."

It was hard to tell from the outside, but I would take his word for it.

"Have the ones who are branded be put to work rebuilding everything. They'll buy their lives with repentance for their wanton destruction, by remaking the City they destroyed."

"As you say, your Highness."

"Any more news from the Eastern Front?"

"Our spies say this was still the only current large scale army aiming for the Reach. There's two more armies building on the east coast, but both want to go sack, Plunder and conquer in the Westerlands."

"Well, if they want to go die on Tyrion's pikes, who am I to stop them. So long as they stay away from our borders."

Garth tensed.

"There is also the Stormlander Army in Dorne…"

I cut him off instantly.

"We've been over this Garth. Maria Yronwood will exterminate the army to a man. Then the power of the Marcher lords will be broken for a generation. We do not need to concern ourselves with the Stormlands. It is the random bands of Adventurers that is our biggest concern right now."

"Your Highness, you seem rather certain of Lady Maria's success in this regard..."

"I am. Anything else to report?"

"The City's stone carvers wish to celebrate your victory with a Runestone and have asked if you have any wish for the text?"

All that nonsense that the first men didn't have written records danced through my head. The hundreds of runestones I had seen along the roads told a rather different tale.

"I'll send them my words later today. They can wait until we're done with the grave though. I want the runestone by the mound to commemorate everyone who died here."

"As you say, your Highness."

As we walked, we were approached by a singer my men called Dragonbone, due to carrying a large Dragonbone Amulet. His actual name sounded like a longwinded curse from some ancient forgotten tongue and no way in hell was I ever gonna be able to pronounce it. So dragonbone it was.

He was the leader of the first clan who had bent the knee to me in exchange for protection and land to call their own outside the forests. All those who had bent their knees were refugees from either the Riverlands or the Stormlands. None of my native singer population had so far bestirred themselves at my offer.

The Singer was short like all his race, even less Robust than other of his kind. His skin was light nutbrown in color, dappled with white like a deer. He had narrow blood-red eyes, wore Clothing made out of bark and leaves alongside a chest plate of black steel I had gone out of my way to commission for him from Harrald. His long black hair was interwoven with leaves and vines.

He was not particularly robust which was a rather stark comparison to the four men that were assigned to guard him, who was amongst the tallest and widest men in my entire army.

The contrast was rather massive, so massive it could be considered comical, but it was not. The singers generally didn't appear comical, especially not Dragonbone. It could be the mixture of clothing which made him look like a shaman in black plate armor, or it could just be the way he looked otherworldly. Or both.

"Green hand." he greeted in a melodious, tone which still gave a clear indication of age.

Garth stiffened notably, as was usual with my Lords. They weren't used to deal with Singers directly.

"Dragonbone. How was the survey?"

The singer went to a knee with a bowed head in a display of submission, then he shakily got back to his feet before answering.

"We have seen no signs from above, of more tree burners. From what we saw, you captured or killed all in the great battle. There have been other of our Kind, however. From the east. They wish to meet with you."

"Another Stormlander singer clan? Did they give a meeting place?"

The old Singer pointed towards the river, or. Specifically at a small fork.

"On the Southbank, when the sun goes down."

Dorne, Vulture's Roost

Queen Maria Yronwood, The First of Her Name, The Firecrown

Maria 1

"CROWN. ONE. KNEE!"

The first rank of the company I lead personally knelt.

"AIM. FIRE!"

The crack of the first volley went off like thunder in the valley.

I saw in the distance, horses and men alike fall down and die, struck down by balls of lead.

"CROWN. SECOND. AIM. FIRE!"

The second volley fired over the heads of the first rank.

Smoke stung my eyes, but i forced myself to look at the scene despite the tears beginning to form.

The cavalry charge didn't so much break, as faltered, as the riders didn't quite know whether to keep charging, regroup or retreat and wait for the infantry. Some charged some went back, some slowed down hoping their leader would tell them what to do. Hopefully, they had died in the first volleys.

The newly added corpses of Horses also slowed the charge down and tripped many who in turn was trampled underfoot.

This was something new. And they had no idea how to respond.

Thus they squandered their one, singular shot at victory.

If they had actually managed to reach my lines with a charge, it probably would have broken.

But they didn't keep coordination, and that was to be their doom.

"CROWN. THIRD. AIM. FIRE."

The final rank pointed their guns over the shoulders of the third and fire off the volley before pulling back their weapons and recharging.

I gave the first rank about 10 seconds more than I probably should have, but it could not be helped. While the guns I used were more than capable of getting the job done, my lack of paper cartridges was a huge problem in getting the speed part of reloading down.

Just having to use powder flasks made this way slower than the Napoleonic muskets would indicate.

Still, they had gotten this training down over the last months and weeks.

They were done loading.

"CROWN. FIRST. AIM. FIRE!"

Another series of flashes, bangs, another score of knights in mailed steel cut down.

The cavalry line was now completely breaking down.

"CROWN. SECOND. AIM. FIRE!"

"CROWN. THIRD. AIM. FIRE!"

They finally routed after the third set of volleys. Thank the Old Gods.

It felt weird to worship anything anymore. No, not weird. AMAZING.

The feeling of knowing your deities existed and would repay you for sacrifice was a feeling that I had.

Allah and Christ had never answered my Prayers. The Old Gods would. They would grant me wargs and greenseers. And all I had to repay them with was the blood of invaders and criminals. That seemed a fine bargain.

As opposed to the nonexistent god of the knights breaking across the field.

I was done with non-existing gods. I had suffered enough in my life asking for salvation and guidance from above. No more.

I would make my own fate. And I would start today after all my preparations, by obliterating this force from the face of the world.

As the cavalry fled back to the main host, still camped outside the fortress of Vulture's Roost, I saw some stirring from the camp. Men marching out to ask what the hell just happened most likely.

Well, that was no good. I had chosen this spot because I had the river to one side, and hills to the other, and more than enough space to field all my armed men. It was a great chokepoint to prevent me from being flanked. I really could not risk actual melee combat now. If it came to that, I would lose.

Not to mention I was standing on a single rising piece of stone in the middle of the army between two regiments. I was easily the most obvious target on the field. It was great to get a good look at the field and to give orders from, but fuck me was it exposed.

If the other side had guns or been mainly archer based, I 'dd never have risked it.

Anyhow, this chokepoint also would force any advancing force into a death zone. So long as they attacked anyway.

Thankfully, I had just the thing to make the Assholes break off the siege of the holiest place in Dorne, and come try to take me out.

I gave some barking orders to bring forth the Cannons.

The lines on the right side parted, and my 8 Pieces of artillery Rolled into place.

As they began to prep them for loading and firing, I asked for and got handed my telescope.

It took a bit of adjusting for me to get a good look at the siege camp, and begin to look after my Brother.

The treacherous cunt was not amongst the people running to figure out what had happened. Oh well.

On the other hand, lord Dondarrion himself was amongst them. That meant the asshole who started this whole mess would hopefully die in the first volley.

Before I had come to Westeros, my brother, Yorick Yronwood had gotten it into his head to convert to the seven, and to bring the light of the seven-pointed star to Dorne.

For that, our father the king, had disinherited him, banished him, and exiled him out of the kingdom.

Yorick would not be stopped so easily, however, and he had spent 5 years trying to get support from anyone who would support his claim and restore him to the throne instead of the Heathen, tree worshiping Woman who had succeeded his father to the throne.

It had taken him half a decade, but he had put together quite an impressive force. He had gotten the Marcher Lords of the stormlands to support him in exchange for burning down the veirwoods of Dorne, and stomping out the worship of the Old Gods.

Along with that, he had gotten a couple of thousand andal adventurers to join his merry band.

Even with all of that though, I still would have had enough to face him conventionally, but Lord Wyl, who was an old friend of Yorick, had turned his coat, and with that news, a massive number of my Elite had turned their coats and marched to support the pretender.

In hindsight, maybe I should have actually demonstrated the power of my new weapons of war for everyone to see, instead of making sure it was as hidden as possible until I was ready.

Well, that was spilled milk now.

Having managed to lose over half my professional soldiers without a battle, I had been forced to rely pretty much exclusively on my smallfolk for battle. And my two lords from the desert, Ladies Sansa Tor of the Tor, and Lucifia Wells of the Scourge. Both of who had gotten male relatives kicked into exile by my father and both of whom said male relatives were in my brother's host.

Not too surprisingly, both had remained loyal, but only had 700 men to bring total. All in all, that had left me with 1300 actual soldiers.

Thankfully, I had a new weapon made and mass-produced before this whole war started, one that did not need heavy, expensive and hard to produce armor and years of training to be effective.

Ok, so I had effectively put the entire bronze making industry and economy of the nation on hold to get all these babes ready for when war broke loose, but that was a price well worth it.

My army was mostly unarmored, but that wouldn't matter if the enemy could not touch us.

As we made our march to relieve Vulture's Roost, we had picked up smallfolk all along the march. The more we came north, the more refugees and folk rendered homeless by the plundering bastards from the north, we came across.

A lot had headed south, but many had joined me on the march, to relieve the center for our religion from destruction.

Old men, old women, widows whose babes were butchered before them and probably raped, 14-year-olds who followed their old folk into battle, 14-year-olds who were alone in the world. Regular men and women who were lit up by religious fervor to defend Dorne's Jerusalem.

I felt guilty for accepting these folk to follow me into battle, but I did not have the luxury of turning down willing hands. Not when my enemy had 16 000 men. Several thousands of them cavalry.

Not to mention that having lots of fellow women in this campaign would help legitimize my plans for the future.

Displaced humans were the only additions to my army though, as even Children of the Forest had joined the march. There weren't many in Dorne, but they did exist. Unlike their more northern relatives they had much paler(as in light yellow) skin along with dark spots instead of pale ones. All in all, it looked like the skin of a serval. Perfect for the savannahs around the rivers, which was the only places where they lived in dorne.

I hadn't much use for them in actual combat, but gods damn they were good for info gathering. These guys would have a great life in my armies if I could get them to join me permanently.

In any case, as the Cannons finished setting up in front of the right end of the line, I got to see the result clearly, as the battery began to sing.

Even at a 1 Kilometers distance, I would not have needed the spyglass to see the plumes of dust where the cannonballs struck. No grapeshots or Shrapnel shells, unfortunately, but whatever. Simple balls of lead would kill too.

I did get to see in detail how panicked and shocked Dondarrion was though. Maybe you shouldn't have rallied the Marcher Lords asshole. The expression he wore moment a ball ripped his leg from under him was priceless.

Even with the new threat of artillery bombarding them, it took a while to redirect the full army around from the siege to deal with the vastly smaller relief force(i had around 4000 to their 16 000). All the while, my cannons kept bombarding them.

Thankfully they sent in the infantry first. Infantry in mail, not plate.

The ranks were quickly punched large holes into by the cannon fire, and the coherence broke as the entire army began a mad charge of fear and rage.

Long before they reached our range again, each of the lines had all reloaded long ago, and just waited on their orders to fire.

As the orders I had drilled into their skulls as best I could, began to be shouted, the bangs of muskets joined the cannons song.

Men fell by the hundreds in each volley, their steel mail doing nothing to protect them from gunfire, much less from cannon blasts. The air grew thick and thicker with smoke after each volley.

Finally, as the smoke began to truly overwhelm my eyes with tears, they broke.

The army routed, still under bombardment from guns of small and large sizes.

The routed foot ran smack dab into the cavalry, who tried to ride them down, only resulting in both getting killed together in the hail of steel.

It was a beautiful sight, though having to watch it as tears filled my kinda spoiled it.

After the remaining men had finally reached a point in their flight I felt it was pointless to continue, I finally gave the order to stop firing.

"CEASE FIRE"

It took a bit of confusion before my regiment stopped, and for the rest to also follow suit.

As the guns finally went silent, and the wind blew away the dust, a macabre sight greeted my ragtag host.

A valley of death. A plain of corpses. A field filled with thousands upon thousands of dead and dying men. Oh, there were survivors, I saw those running into the distance, trying to escape through the mountain passes. They would never be seen again, though. The mountain folk that lived in the passes would make sure of that.

The world had just turned. An age had come to an end, while a new had been born from the ashes and broken dreams of Westeros.

The gun, the most important gamechanger in human history had arrived, an invention more important than anything else had come to Westeros, and with it, it would change history forever with fire, powder, and blood.

I turned towards my army, many besotted with grime and filthy skins from the dust. Hopefull, glad, shocked, ecstatic, awed. I saw all these expressions upon my folk.

Blue eyes, green eyes, yellow eyes, grey eyes, purple eyes, the full colored eyes of the Children, all turned to look at me where I stood above them.

I had made some pre-battle speech, yet somehow it's words did not come to my mind.

So I had to try and figure out some new speech. My mouth was dry as I lifted my own musket(That had gone unfired for the battle. Come to think of it, it had only been used to show my mens the drills.) and tried to form words of victory that just would not come.

I squinted against the beating Dornish sun when I felt a surge of heat and blinding light above my head for a moment. I closed my eyes completely to shield them.

I heard it clearly as the men and women in front of me began to gasp in rapid succession.

Then someone shouted "FIRECROWN!"

The shout was quickly taken up by others.

"FIRECROWN!"

"FIRECROWN!"

"FIRECROWN!"

The heat disappeared as quickly as it came, and I blinked, rapidly to reorient my eyes.

What the fuck just happened?

Amazingly, we found my brother still alive.

He had taken a bullet to the leg and had managed to bandage it up so he didn't bleed out.

My Soldiers found him as they went about killing survivors and looting the dead.

I had given full permission to loot as everyone pleased. I had also given the order that every single dead enemy would be taken inside Vulture's Roost and be given to the Gods.

My guys(soldiers and relieved garrison alike) were already talking about it in whispered and hushed tones. How we had won without losing a single man. It would have been the most spectacular victory in Westerosi history in terms of numbers if Stark and his Crannogmen hadn't once beaten and annihilated a force of 30 000 who once tried to conquer through the neck.

As I was talking to young Lord Drinkwater and him thanking me and swearing to me his fealty as the one true High Queen of Dorne, my men suddenly came to us with loud yells, and one of my larger men carried him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He then dumped him on the ground in front of me, not particularly tenderly.

Before he had even managed to get his face up from the ground, 6 Muskets pointed straight at him.

"Brother!" I greeted him as I smiled with Wide open arms to sides.

"It's bloody nice to see you again. The joy almost makes up for committing blasphemy, converting from the true Gods, rallying a bunch of heathens to burn down Vulture's Roost, convincing Wyl to turn his coat and half my Elites with him as well as lighting Drinkwater Valley ablaze. Almost."

Yorick Yronwood, prince of the Redmarch, second child of Brandon Yronwood sat in the grass and glared at me defiantly. His eye color was purple, just like my own and our parents.

That was not unusual in western Dorne. Silver hair and silver eyes were common enough in the days before the andals came and interbred with the first men dornish. Unlike in Valyria though, it wasn't the dominant colors, just another set along with the regular human ones. You rarely saw the purple eyes and silver hair combo here. In our case, our combo was purple eyes and deep red hair.

"If you mean to kill me, Maria, get on with it already."

"That would be the just course aye. And I'm sure most of my people here would be ecstatic to see your head on a pike as we march home. But you are my Blood. So you shall get the wall. You shall get to make up for your crimes by guarding the realms of men."

His expression did not change, though I saw several of my men glance with scowls at that announcement.

Of course, that would not be justice. It would be a redemption. Not justice.

"After I castrate you of course. I shall not have any bastards you might sire come back to haunt me."

At that, his look changed to pure unmasked fear. Ah, that age-old constant.

Planetos or Earth, men would always put on a brave and noble face no matter what the accusation was. Until you threatened or harmed their manhood. Then went down like a bitch.

I motioned to my men.

"Lay him in irons, and spread the word we'll publically Castrate him in 3 hours or so, at the castle gates, so that everyone can see if they wish."

At that, I motioned to my 3 Lords to follow as I walked in through the gates.

Vulture's roost was an interesting place. The largest collection of veirwoods in Dorne, having been planted as a sign of friendship and goodwill in response to the pact.

It was regarded as the most sacred place in the "Empty Land" as the children put it.

It was also the place where the entire region around the Drinkwater river sent their criminals to die.

Lord Drinkwater would chop their heads off here on a block of wood, then they would cut out the entrails and hang them up on veirwoods.

As I walked past into the giant courtyard that was the forest, I walked past hundreds of my men dragging dead andals with them to do just that. I had ordered every single head to be chopped off and stored so I could put them along the northern border like I was Theon Stark.

Seriously, fuck the marcher lords and all their heathen asses.

If my dealings with Durran didn't work out, I would turn the entire stormlander marches to a desert, just to make further invasions even more difficult. Also, make sure that the castle of Wyl be made stronger and turned into a royal fief. I was not the starks. I would not keep around a house whose symbol was a snake biting someone's Achilles heel.

Especially not when they held such a critical fortress.

"I must admit your grace…" Drinkwater began. "I did not have the greatest of hopes of relief."

"Whyever would you have doubted me? I just had to smash an army 3 times my size, with a host lacking in armor for most of it, and having no cavalry. And doing so with untested weaponry most of my men are still convinced is magic fire.

He looked at me with a bewildered look.

"You mean… It's not magic? I… How then?"

"Oh, it's just a bit alchemy to create a black powder that explodes when lit by the smallest spark, then make a weapon capable of harnessing the power of that explosion into propelling a ball of metal at speeds faster than sound. Really, it's elementary physics my Dear Drinkwater."

He stared at me with mouth agape(which looked even more comical than one would expect given that his head bopped up and down as we walked). Then as if suddenly realizing that he was doing so in front of 3 Attractive ladies(as well as my guards) who also happened to be his peers he shut it as his face turned red as an apple.

"I… I shall take your word for it my Magnara."

I chuckled.

We kept going towards my objective. In the middle of the grove was a rather large rocky mound, with a cave entrance on one side.

As I walked up to it and laid my hand upon the stone, exploring the texture, I continued.

"Anyway. You've probably guessed it, but there will be a few changes in the future. Namely our laws. Or rather the laws of Dorne itself."

Mord Drinkwater did not say anything. Instead, he just listened with a weary expression. He did not look like a 16-year-old boy with those haunted eyes.

"There are several such laws we need to talk about, but for the moment, there 1 you must know going forward."

"The first is that as of today, I am abolishing the levy system. You may feel free to keep your elites if you want, but I will no longer call them up for war. Nor will my lords be legally obligated to send their smallfolk in my wars. Instead, each lord shall pay a scutage Tax, that is to say, an Army tax, to pay for the upkeep of a standing host to keep our borders safe, as well as to bring the other Kings of Dorne to their knees through military might."

A silence followed for a short while before Mord replied. "You're serious? A standing army? Like… A host constantly under arms?"

I turned to look him straight in the eyes. His nutbrown, against my Purple.

"Yes my lord. I intend to both secure my Borders, as well as turning my ancestors boasts of High Kings into reality. When I am done, there will be a thousand men to protect and keep order along each of the rivers and one thousand along the pass."

"I… I see. You say I will be allowed to keep my Elites. Will I be allowed to outfit them with… What did you call the fire weapons?"

"Well, the actual name I gave them was Guns, but my men pretty much all call them dragons, so hand dragon is as good a name as any."

"Very well. Hand Dragons. Will I be allowed to equip my elites with them?"

"Yes." I answered simply.

He looked really relieved by that answer.

"Then I shall pay your Army tax, my Magnara."

He nodded to the cave entrance.

"He awaits you. Alone. Shall you enter?"

I glanced into the entrance. A strange darkness awaited there. It was as if the light that was so clear outside simply stopped. It was unnatural.

All around us vultures sat in the trees. I had seen that from the start. I had assumed they were there to feast on entrails hung up into the tree branches. With a start, I realized that this was not the case though. They all sat still on branches, looking down on us. No, on me.

"Any instructions?" I asked in a tone trying to recapture the confidence I had just felt talking about armies. At least my voice didn't break.

"Follow the main path. Do not stray into the side passages."

I turned back to look into the cave, into the darkness. I swallowed, my throat dry.

Time for my Holy blessings from the gods above, like all the monarchs who came before me.

I stepped into the darkness.

The walk was a strange one, as I had expected it to be.

As I walked I expected my eyes to adapt to the darkness over time. It did not. Instead, it was as if the moment I fully entered into the darkness, it lifted slightly, my eyes suddenly picking up things in the darkness in the blink of an eye.

There was no color, but I saw the corridor now.

The tunnel stretched on, and on. On both sides of the wall, the smell being sharp but pleasant.

The tunnel was not straight. Instead, it winded here and there in a pattern that I imagined would have looked like a spiral if I could have e 3-dimensional map of the tunnel.

It was not barren, however, not a dirt pathway, or one of stone. Instead, the ground was covered in grass, just like the valley outside.

Children called Dorne the Empty land, but that was only true for the deserts. The land in which people actually lived was around the 4 great rivers. There were oasis, big and small, where people also lived(especially in the pass) but for the most part, the vast majority of the region people lived around the rivers. And those areas were as green as the Nile delta.

Well, other than the greenblood. That river had been ruined by soil degradation, leading to the collapse of its kingdom that ripped itself apart in civil war.

Now we had 2 field crop rotation, but the damage was done, and once broken, it was much harder to fix something than making sure it never broke in the first place.

The ruined soil around the greenblood was not what this floor reminded me off though. It was not bad soil. It was lustrous green, filled with colorful plants and flowers, just like around Yronwood. I blinked. Was it green? Had I imagined that? I could have sworn that I saw it's beauty for a moment.

But the world was still one of muted colors.

No light had ever reached these tunnels. Yet somehow these flowers did just fine.

A sound like rustling footsteps came from behind.

I instantly drew my pistol and snapped around, weapon ready and pointed.

No one there.

I lowered the gun and took a deep breath. This was the domain of the old Gods and I should expect things like this.

Nothing to worry about. It was just a test until I reached my goal.

As I continued on, I kept telling myself that as I ignored the sounds that followed after.

It took around maybe 10 minutes of walking before I finally saw the path split.

The new path was smaller, but it was a split road, not a side passage into the wall.

I took a look into the smaller passage.

The darkness lurked there.

I left it behind and continued the main path.

As I walked further on, I began to notice animal bones along the pathway. Skulls were the only thing that allowed me to recognize what they belonged to.

Cat skulls, small and large, some were from what I could only assume was servals, other older, larger skulls with massive fangs was from what could only be sabertooth tigers. A relic of an age even before man.

No songs sung or tales told by men told of them. They had died out before we even came to Westeros.

Other skulls included wolves, deers, rodents and most worrying, skulls here and there of Humans.

They weren't many, but they were there.

A new sound behind me, this time of something heavy being dropped to a floor.

Again I turned around in a swirl, gun still drawn and pointed back into the passage.

Nothing there. Now, however, I began to feel something. There was something in the darkness. Something I could not see.

I pointed the gun into the darkness. I drew the second as well, more on instinct than a conscious decision.

I waited, tense as a coil. Something would happen, something would change. I could feel it. I stepped back, still facing the darkness.

Then my foot sank into sand.

I yelped as I stumbled backwards and fell on my ass. Into a dune of sand. What the fuck?

As I stumbled back on my feet I turned my head, here and there, desperately trying to reorient myself.

I stared back where the darkness had been. The corridor was gone. Completely, in both directions.

I stood in the middle of a desert. The only thing that told me I was still underground was that I could not see the sky. Though, above was only that darkness that my sight could not penetrate.

I stood still for a moment looking back to where the tunnel I had come from had been. Then I turned in the opposite direction. The way the path had been.

I swallowed. Then I began to walk across the dunes.

Both my guns had thankfully not been clogged by sand, for which I was grateful. Still, I sheated both. I doubted they would be of much use here anyway, and if they were, then me dropping them into the sand and making them useless was the last thing I needed.

They were my only weapons I had at hand. Well them and a knife. Not the most impressive of equipment.

As I climbed up the third dune, I cursed myself for not bringing my Musket and it trusty bayonet. A short spear would have been a more trusty weapon to have with me than two guns.

At least the sounds behind had stopped for the moment.

As I walked across what felt like the 20'th dune of sand, I noticed something in the distance. I squinted, trying to get a better look, but given the darkness, all I achieved with that was making it even harder to see.

It stood at a dune or two away from me, on the path forward.

What it was was hard to see, but it was big, I could see that. I also KNEW with a certainty like steel, that whatever it was, it was looking at me.

I kept walking.

I crossed the next dune, and I still tried to make out what it was.

The only thing I saw, was that it was even larger than I had first thought. Huge and massive, it stood like a statue on the dunes.

The only thing I could see clearly now was its eyes. They looked down at me, judgingly.

As I walked down from the dune, unto the low point between it and the one the shadow was standing on, I looked up again, trying to see what it was.

My breath caught as I saw it moving, down the slope. Slowly, like it was on the prowl. Behind it, the shadows above us parted, revealing a night sky, filled by countless stars so far away, and dominating the heaven, a massive crescent moon.

In its light, I finally saw what the thing was. A lion. A lion large as a bear.

I stood in shock for a moment. Then I saw it's movement preparing for a leap. Reality asserted itself as I jumped to the side, and crashed into the sand. Just to my side, I FELT the monster move past, in a burst of speed, with all its weight and power behind it.

The lion turned as I got to desperately crawling backwards up the dune, hastily fumbling to get my gun drawn. The monster roared with a sound that rattled my bones.

As it prepared to jump again I finally got my gun out and aimed it.

"BANG!"

A roar of pain. I did not stick around to watch how badly it was injured. I turned around and scrambled up the large dune. Near the top, I finally heard the sounds of pursuit starting behind me.

I bolted over the top and- there was a massive fortress at the bottom of the dune.

I almost stumbled to a halt in surprise, but the instincts to survive kept me moving and sprinting down the sandhill as fast as my legs would carry me.

It was down the hill when I heard the roar from atop the hill, signaling the beast had climbed over.

I sprinted the remaining 10 meters in a dash of desperate speed I had never felt the likes of in my life.

The castle gate of black wood was just ahead, the ends long and sharp and coated in black iron. The gates were open, thank the fucking heavens. No wait, I still needed to close them, didn't I?

Shit.

I bolted through and looked desperately for the device to close the gates, the sound of enormous paws ever closing.

There.

A wheel winch that held up the gate with a long chain wrapped around it. I sprung over to it and closed my hands around one point each and pulled with all I had.

It didn't budge.

I turned my head to look out the gate.

The lion was wounded but it came running, though with a halt.

I turned back to the wheel and heaved again. The damned thing didn't budge.

The sound of paws behind, death approaching quickly, a quick halt as it prepared to leap, I was doomed, dead, fucked, I was-

I ripped out my remaining gun and fired it straight at the chain in the air.

The bullet punch through the bronze chain as if it was nothing and I heard the CRASH of the door as it came to the ground. I breathed, slowly and methodically to calm myself before I turned around.

The gates had fallen straight down upon the lion as it had leaped and impaled it. The ends had gone straight through its head.

I began to actually breathe calmly again. Then it began to rot before my eyes the thing turned into a mass of blood and destroyed flesh, and it slowly crept back out the gate and vanishing into the sands.

I stared after it, then I turned to the courtyard which had delivered me to safety. It felt familiar, but I could not place it in the darkness. The courtyard was enormous. I saw in the shadows enormous walls, and beneath them, a small plain of cobbled stones, large enough that a thousand men could have camped in it, and still had enough space to comfortably stretch their legs.

I looked up into the darkness, and I saw as the shadows began to part like clouds bowing before the wind.

Up, and up and up it went, like a mountain. Towers of black stone and dark marble, and in the middle, a massive fortress rising above the earth. The crowns of each tower was like teeth, bared to the sky for all the world below to see.

I could not see the top, but I knew how it looked. I knew what this place was now. It was Yronwood, the seat of my house.

Long ago it had been raised, over the course of 6 lifetimes. 4 Kings, and 2 Queens had labored and ruled as it was being built above them. The great black Fortress of the Redmarch. The Black Gate of The boneway.

I had once seen a picture someone had made of the Book version of Barad Dur, and Yronwood had reminded me of nothing as much as that picture.

No one had invaded the redmarch and not felt it's bite. It had withstood countless sieges and repelled all assaults. Lining its walls were ballistas like pikes, and all along the gate was murder holes for butchering any who dared to try and take the citadel by storm.

It was the final line of defense Dorne had from invaders, no one who came from the North could pass it without challenge.

As I watched the towers and the citadel, a light was lit in the fortress main hall. Then another, and another.

By the time I began to walk to the main gate, there were dozens of lights all along the walls.

I reached the ironwood doors, took a deep breath and opened them with a push. And stepped out into sunlight under the open sky. I blinked. Then I blinked again while shielding my eyes as they adapted to the light after so much darkness.

I was in a city. Or town, the distinction between a large town and a small city could be somewhat meaningless in this world.

The smell was that of the sea and sure enough, there was the coast down to my left. To the right, up a hill was a huge white palace… Wait, wait, no that wasn't a palace.

It took me a second before I realized what it was. And what it was was a medieval version of the fucking white house.

It was ugly and made of cobbled-together stone, but the shape was unmistakable.

I stared at the monstrosity for a second, as sounds began to come from both sides. I wasn't alone here. I could the sounds of people in both directions.

In front of me was just a random building wall. There was no straight road. Just right and left.

Down by the docks I, saw ships arrive. Galleys, longships, and others I could not get a good look at from here. Above it, I saw birds circling. Seabirds of many kinds(though mostly gulls) alongside… Vultures?

I looked back at the white building. There were birds circling there too. Eagles, the kings of the sky. Golden eagles, white-headed eagles, eagles of red and eagles of blue.

I went left.

As I walked, I began to see people. Smallfolk, fisherfolk, traders, men and women, young urchins all running about. I expected them to ignore me, but they did not.

They greeted me warmly as if I was a regular acquaintance of everyone here. The sailors gave a hand sign as they continued on with their day. A man sat by the sea and painted a painting depicting an eastern storm and many stood and watched in awe of his skills with a brush of ink.

A small group of singers was enchanting the people with varying instruments while playing a song from my youth. Or 50 days in Peking, I wasn't entirely sure.

It was all so fake. The streets were clean to such a degree that one had to assume people regularly cleaned it with soap, everyone was happy and content, no one gave anyone else scowls and just laughed and joked around.

The shopowners asked me how my day was and seemed puzzled when I just continued on my way down the dock.

I guess I was supposed to speak and interact with this vision, but fuck that. I had spotted what I instantly recognized as the center of everything.

On a pole upon which a ship rope was fastened around, sat a raven with three eyes.

I hastily made my way down towards it.

As I reached it, I stopped and put my hands on my hips as I glared at it.

"Can we get this shit over with?" I said in a tone which made it clear I was fucking done with this nonsense.

To which the fucking bird just chuckled.

"Impatient are ye?"

It hopped around to face the sea instead.

"In any case child of Fire, this is not my doing. It is yours."

So, this was one of THOSE vision, was it? The ones that were unique to each person based upon their history. Great.

"I must say, this has been relatively peaceful so far. Moreso than most of what your blood conjures up."

"A giant lion tried to murder me."

"Yes, as I said. Far more peaceful."

It shook out with one wing towards the town in a motioning manner, as if it was in an animated movie.

"A peaceful City, where women can walk in peace, where the law is upheld and everyone is nice. It's a pleasant fantasy. Generally not one finds in those who have left behind childhood."

"Your Father also wanted to unite Dorne. He saw a land of bent knees, where all bent before the black gate, from the torrentine to the broken arm, from the brimstone river to the edge of the great pass. All would know the sovereignty and splendor of Yronwood."

It cocked its head.

"Yet you do not. You wish to conquer, but that is not your desire."

"Conquest just for its own sake is meaningless. There is no point in doing it unless you actually mean to change things."

"Ah…" The Raven said in a mocking tone. "So you are a sophisticated warmonger are you?"

"So, what to do you wish to change child, you who bear the crown of fire?"

"I wish to make all equal."

"A meaningless set of words, that can mean everything from abolishing monarchy in totality, to crush the exceptional for the mediocre many, to abolishing slavery yet keeping thralls as a legal status."

He looked at me with a look I felt like he was trying to pierce my mind with an ice pick.

"What do YOU want, queen of the Redmarch?"

"I…"

I had prepared for this, I had made plans for what to say, for how I would go about this. Yet this was the first I had actually talked about this to anyone. I had kept my plans all to myself, and I had not shared them with my advisors, friends, lords or anyone else.

"I…"

Get it out, you idiot.

"I want to make men and women equal before the law. I want to strip men of the right to beat their wives, my lords of the privilege of Raping women on their wedding night."

I looked down the street, and saw, for the first time what it was actually about.

"I want people of all ages, social positions, and genders to be able to go about their lives in peace, knowing that they can live their lives protected. For my people to be able to pursue stupid, grand, romantic dreams in peace if they so wish, knowing that justice reigns, and that all are equal before the law."

"THAT is what I want Greenseer. EQUALITY before the law."

The raven did not show any signs that what I had said was of any great importance.

"And what do you fear? What is the white palace? Why do you fear it so?"

That… Was a good question actually.

Well, I didn't actually fear the white house. It was merely a symbol. Of incompetent rule by idiots who had no fucking clue what they were doing. And corruption, and the seat from which the Americans had committed genocide to establish itself as the dominant power on earth. It was a symbol of everything wrong with the land of the free.

I did fear becoming that. To send my armies out to conquer and colonize the continent in the name of Manifest destiny. I could do that. I could make the stormlands and the reach my bitches if I wanted to. But I would not.

I was not Aegon, who united the continent just to do it, then not doing anything productive with his conquest. If I wanted to get shit done, I would need to unite dorne. And not as a colonizer. But as a Dornish Queen.

Then I would need to make all my reforms stick.

"I guess… I guess I fear not managing to make my reforms stick. For everything, I do to fall back to the way it used to be."

"So you fear being a bad monarch then, not an uncommon thing amongst young rulers."

"No. I don't fear being bad. I'm not going to be bad. It doesn't take too much to not be a bad monarch. Be invested in justice, know moderation and know when to be hard, and when to be generous. That's not hard. That's the story of my life."

"But that would just make me a decent queen. I can't afford to be decent. I have to be extraordinary. If I want all changes not to be undone by an incompetent heir, or conservative backlash, or just plain bad luck, I will have to be grand, great, one of the Big monarch of history. Brandon the Builder, Garth the Goldenhand, Yronwood the Bloodroyal. If I cannot reach their level, any reforms I make will die with me."

I stared at the bird, just realizing something.

"You met Yronwood didn't you? What was he like?"

The raven snorted.

"Yronwood was a lad when he made this journey. He was nothing more than a remarkably charismatic lad when he made this trip. Just crowned and full confidence. There was cleverness, but little of the wisdom that would make him the greatest man in Dorne."

"So he was like all other clever teenagers. Certain that he knew everything and that he was immortal."

"Yes."

I sighed. Well, it wasn't like our situations were similar anyhow. I wasn't sure there was anything to learn here, other than, don't be a young idiot. Which shouldn't be a problem. It was a long time since I had been young.

I sighed. So, what about the Lion. What did it represent?"

"Failures." The raven simply said.

"CRACK"

I jumped at the sound, instant and out of nowhere. It came from below, where the ground itself began to split like breaking glass. The entire dock began to break apart, the people, buildings, the water.

The people burst to pieces that disintegrated into nothing. Ships fell apart, the sea broke as if it was made of ice that shattered into pieces.

The Three-eyed bird took to the air.

"Well lass, you wanted this to be over. Here's yer chance. Time to fly or fall."

The world broke beneath my feet. The last I heard as I fell was the raven talking.

"Your past and Future dreams we've seen. Now the present and that which might be shall be revealed, if you have the eye to see."

I fell into the void.

The world was a mist of ever-changing images.

A mosque with a blue roof and beige walls, hiding a darkness beneath its dome.

A fortress of black stone atop a small mountain, beneath it a red land filled with sand, rivers, and stones. It's shadow reaching wide and far.

A small bog-standard apartment complex, no different than any other.

A School coated in the blood of children.

The images of people danced through the world around me. Old friends, people I hated throughout my life. Objects which had mattered to me for important and stupid reasons. It was as if in one moment they were infinite and endless and in the next, they were gone like a blink of an eye and replaced by a new reel of pictures and memories.

I think had fallen a long time, when suddenly and without warning, I fell through the mists into the open sky.

And I SAW.

I saw it all, from the wall in it's cold magical fastness to ashai beneath the black heart of summer, where demons and dragons rested beneath the mountain.

I saw the land in all it's entirety. But that was not what drew my mind.

All across the world, there were others, men and shadows, so tightly knit together that I could not see where the flesh began and the shadows ended.

In a castle of Ice and Heat a Wolf with glowing grey eyes presided over a feast, looking down upon the lesser folk that feasted in its halls.

A bastardization of chains and ships and birds and wood and plants, stood beneath a mountain stream, a sailing song it sang while it anchored up in port. It had set out to kill the monster beneath the waves.

The hand and the lion were hidden from view, and I saw only ravens look up at me when I tried to find them.

The stag stood over a bay, where the sea was killed and driven back.

I looked beyond Westeros.

Beyond the Narrow sea, in the land summer, a city lay. A city of blood, a city of death, of vice and hatred. A terrible city the likes of which this age had never seen. From it, a dragon bright, black and terrible took flight from mountains of fire and sharp dust, the shadows of its wings covering the Essos like sails under the sun.

He flew across the plains and bathed them in dragonflame.

The dragon turned during a dive, it's head turning towards the sky, and it saw me. On its forehead, a third eye rested, open and read, and terrible.

My sight went beyond the western coasts and to the land of Sarnor with its countless splendid cities. A large blue bird fretted in a tower in a white shining city by a silver sea, reading scrolls over and over again in a vain attempt to return to that which was the past.

Across the mountains tall, I saw beyond and below them. A lion in a palace, endlessly toiling away writing guidelines for everything under the sun in a desperate hope to regain control over the eastern land.

To the far south on the great island, stood a figure in plated steel, with barbs like razors and knives. A hundred thousand warriors knelt below on bended knee.

Northwards bound, in the city below the earth, a figure walked up and out of its gates. Made of fire and shadow, the dead rose about him, and the grassy plains were set ablaze, scattering all those who stood before him. When my eyes turned to him, he turned to the sky, to watch me. Like the dragon, a third eye adorned his forehead.

Westwards, I again turned my sight, over the red lake and over the desert, into the-

My sight stopped. A wall of sand had risen from the dunes and blocked all my sight further east.

There was a city on the dunes.

And in the city, there was an eye. A green eye, whose pupil was in the shape of an hourglass.

It looked at me. A hidden power, a strength far above my own, above the others with the third eye.

It waited.

To see if I would challenge it.

If I did, I would break.

I pulled back. Back. Back to Westeros.

I saw towards the other two in the desert those like the others. Like me. One was in the great valley, and the other along the searing river.

The western sky blackened.

My sight went west, across the water, towards a storm.

In the west, across the waters far beyond the sunset, a dragon rose to the sky. A dragon of Gold, and all around it, a storm of Golden flames.

The inferno rose to the sky, so high that it blocked out the sun. Out of the I inferno, the dragon burst into the sky, the shadow giving way to a golden light, a crown so radiant it burned even across the sea.

I turned away, away from the dragon in the west. Away from the monster of fire, shadow, and gold.

I felt others. In all directions. There were yet more in Westeros, others in Sothoryos, more in essos, beyond the mountains of Morning. Beyond the dragon, I felt others as well, though I could not see beyond the fire.

But my time was nearing its end. I fell, fell and fell. Dorne came closer, more and more for each second.

The mountains rushed up, though I saw I would not fall on them. I fell towards a valley, a fertile one, with a large river running through.

The river came closer and closer. I would hit it. Would it dampen my fall? Would I be crushed by the water so sparkling? No, this was not the land beyond the wall, where dreamers were impaled by spikes.

Still, a voice in the back of my head tried to make me remember something. A story about a broken boy falling.

Fly or die.

The river was just below.

Dare I risk falling into it?

I spread my wings and flew.

MY SKULL BURST APART IN PAIN

I screamed as I hit the water and fell into its depths, and I knew no more.

When I finally came to, I was drenched in water. I blinked.

I lay on sand. Not desert sand, sand you would find by a river. Yes, I was halfway submerged in water. I could feel the flow around my legs.

I groaned as I forced myself up and on my knees. A quick check on if I had lost something. My crown was still fastened around my head, the pistols hadn't fallen out of their holsters, though they were soaked and useless.

Though I had used their charges already hadn't I? Maybe I had. Or maybe I hadn't. I had shot a lion I think.

But there weren't any lions in dorne.

I slapped myself across the cheek HARD.

As I hoped, that woke me up quite a bit.

My knife was still there.

Which was probably good. Because now that I was awake, I realized that two direwolves stood in front of me.

For a moment I was completely frozen, just breathing, on my knees. The world was still and quiet.

"Do not be alarmed child. They will harm you. Not unless you were so foolish as to break your guest right here."

I looked around, towards the source of the voice. And as I looked, I finally took in my surroundings in their entirety.

I was I cave of sorts, filled with life. Smaller animals, a couple of direwolves, and countless plants.

There were a lot of skulls too, of many different animals. There was a light from a large yellow stone on the wall that seemed to burn with an inner fire.

And in the middle, there was a large, white tree. Around it, a dozen children of the forest stood and observed me with varying expressions. Many of the "Standard" variant, from the North.

Up in the branches was the being I had come to see. The Vulture. The three-eyed raven of Dorne.

He was an albino Child of the forest. And he was old. Fuck me he looked old. Like bloodraven, he was intertwined with the roots of the tree that had grown into and under his skin. Though unlike Bloodraven, he still had both his eyes.

I staggered my way towards him. Good, I felt awful. Like I had been puking an entire night. As I walked to tried to scrape away as much sand as I possibly could.

I had kinda hoped this would be a private meeting, but apparently, it was open to anyone who wished it.

"Maria Yronwood." He greeted as the wolves followed behind me and the Children parted.

"Youve come a far way from your younger days."

"Isn't that the definition of anyone who has grown up from childhood?"

"I supposed it is. Do you wish any food before we talk? We've have fruits plenty prepared for your arrival."

I eyed him.

"You're not quite what I expected."

"Is that so?" He sounded amused. "And what did you expect pray tell? That I would be emotionless? Without passion or a sense of humor?"

"Something like that."

He threw back his head(or attempted too, it was a weird halfway angle) and laughed.

"I was not so weak as that when I became the Vulture, Child. I was a man grown, and I recovered my mind in time. Some do, and some do not."

His expression became melancholic.

"Less and less do as the years go by. Fewer retain what they were and more become… well. You seem to have heard the tales."

"Aye."

I looked to the sides and saw many, MANY tunnels to this room. If I tried to get out by myself I was fucked. I would need a guide.

"So how do we do this? You cast a spell or something along those lines?"

"No. I gave you a shot at opening your inner eye, but you failed. Most who can, do so when they come here. Now we talk. About what was, what is, and what will be."

Right. I had a pretty good idea of what my visions of others like me were, and I frankly did not want to tell the background of what, and the rest was to this guy. Then again I didn't know if he already knew. I hoped not.

"Right. So, was all that how is for everyone?" I asked as the others came with the fruits they had promised. Apples and oranges mostly.

"The path is the same. Each journey is different. No two monarchs are the same child. Even if they were as alike as grains of sands, their situations will not be. And your father was very different from you."

Ah right. My dad. Who everyone talked about as being hugely important to me. I kinda felt bad for not really having any heavy feelings on the man.

"Right. So, you have any opinions on my future plans?" I felt like an idiot that I had told him them, but it was too late to take back now.

"You wish to establish true primogeniture so that men and women inherit equally, and neither gender is below the other.".

At that, the other children startled and looked at me in confusion.

"Any Advice?"

"Live long. If you want it to stick, you shall need to live long enough to enforce it across the generations. If you focus exclusively on your own succession it will fail. You shall need to make it the Norm all across dorne."

That...was pretty much exactly what I had figured as well.

"Makes sense."

"It is no small matter that which you intend to do. And even you do everything correctly, you may still fail in the long run. It is also not an area I can help you with. My expertise is the Older arts, not state crafting. "

I bit into an apple and ate of it before I continued.

"Speaking of those older arts, was that you behind that nonsense with the crown of fire?"

"No." Well, that was a simple answer.

"Then what was that nonsense about? I didn't exactly sacrifice men in a ritual."

"You slaughtered over 11 000 men in less than an hour. That is enough for a blood sacrifice if one has the will."

Wait, you could just use dead soldiers as a blood sacrifice? Holy shit that changed everything about magical warfare I thought I knew. Pity I wasn't a witch who knew what I was doing.

"So, I slaughtered over 10 000 men and a crown of fire appeared around my head?"

"Not your head." The old one said.

"Your Crown, Child. The Bloodroyal from your house takes its name. The later generations have forgotten much and more about it, as the maesters came, but there is power in it. Great and small. Just like there is power in the Oakenseat, Storms End, Winterfell, and the River Crown. Just like there was power in the Ring of Lann."

Well, that was… Interesting.

"So it's a magical artifact then? Neat."

I recognized most of those things he named, but the ring of Lann wasn't anything I had heard of. Nor the river crown.

Well, I recognized a plot hook when I saw one.

"Tell me more."

The stormlands, a random bay near Parchment

King Durran Durrandon 25th of his name, The Landmaker

Durran 1

I stood above the bay, marveling at my handiwork, as below, farmers cut the newly retaken field scythes I had introduced.

A field taken from the sea. Ah, such glory.

I had such pride at myself when I had introduced the process of land reclamation to the Stormlands. It had taken a bit of work, and I had had to completely invent the windmill, the Archimedes screw, and proper pipes, but in the end, it was all worth it.

We had made the first piece of reclaimed land in a bay near Parchment. We had set up dikes, and drained the entire thing, and made the land fertile with reeds and all that.

Then, as we had planted the first harvest, a storm had come, and ripped the dike apart, letting the sea flood the land, and destroy all my work.

I had of course just gotten back on my feet and built a second one stronger, taller, and thicker than before.

The storms had blown that to pieces too.

So I built a third one, even taller and thicker than that.

That one was hit by a lightning strike that burst it asunder and was THEN broken and flooded.

But the fourth one had stayed up. It had weathered the storms.

Strong enough that it had stayed up no problem, long enough that the first farm cycle was now coming to an end. The system worked.

Ah, it was good to be the king.

Still, it was primitive. No canal system to ferry goods. Nor was there any town around to sell them in for that matter.

Wrathtown was the only town of any note in the Stormlands. The coasts weren't particularly populated. The Stormlands were generally described as a sparsely populated land, but that was all in regards to its coastal regions.

Inland it was as well populated as Germany's medieval interior. However, true fertility and riches were to be found at the coast as any true dutchman would tell you.

The stormlanders were not dutchmen, however. They had not rallied and defeated the sea to claim it's land for their own. Instead, the stormlanders had generally just moved inland to not suffer as badly from the storms as those on the coast.

They boasted that they weathered the storms, but that was, for the most part, a lie. They did not weather it. They fled.

I was going to have to do something about that.

And the plan was simple. All I had to do is create a set of massive dikes connecting Tarth to the mainland, and making sea breaker bay a lake, separating it from the narrow sea. Then I could begin pumping out the water from the lake back into the sea. The rain and rivers running intro shipbreaker would eventually overtake the saltwater and the lake would become a freshwater lake.

I would also lower the sea level for a period so that I could blow up all the reefs and jutting stones that I could not reclaim as land. Then after that was done, I would let the water refill to its proper height and now be able to ship directly from storms end.

Sure it would probably take a fucking century with the tech I had at hand, but that was hardly the only thing I had planned. It was just the biggest.

Inside shipbreaker lake, I would begin creating other, internal dikes and reclaim the sea there, and produce land incredibly rich in produce and clay. That would not only allow me to earn a lot of money in the long run, but it would allow me to pay for all the dikes as they were constructed.

These polders were the future of this country. They would make us rich, more powerful, and give us more land. And shipbreaker bay was just the largest of these. I had more planned for the south and north coast of the stormlands. Especially Estermont.

All of it began here though. At this bay which was now farmlands.

I really wished I could have just been allowed to work on this uninterrupted, but alas, the world of politics did not stay still.

I had gotten a lot of backlash for not supporting that fool Yronwood in his campaign to reclaim the throne of Redmarch.

I had become extremely opposed to the idea from the start, but even if I had not been, the news I heard from the south had made it clear I was not going joining that little crusade.

The queen was making something I recognized as only one thing. Guns. There was no way I was going to war against that with hammer, mail, and shield.

I would have guns of my own eventually, but for now, Young Arryn(though god knows how old he actually was) was sitting tight on the secrets of gunpowder.

He would get around eventually.

I hoped.

Keeping the falcon happy had to lose Dragonstone though, which was a hard blow. I had planned to cleanse it of pirates and colonize it, but the Falcon beat me to it. And thus he got the island, and the best cement there was with it.

My cement was not as good, but it did the job.

No, I had plans of getting involved with Gunpowder just yet. So I had left the marcher Lords to go out on their little campaign. I had also known that few of them would be coming home.

A sad loss of men. But that was the way it had to be.

It had however meant that I had looked like an ass in front of the majority of the realm. Hence why so few of my lords had come to my feast at this most joyous of occasions.

Behind me, seated around the long table I had gotten for this occasion was a couple of my vassals. Many had boycotted this meeting due to anger at me not going to war for the faith.

The faith itself was not happy with me either. Though the Order of the Smith was marching to a different tune.

As I had learned, in these early days before the high septons, there were a number of monastic orders around Westeros.

In the stormlands in particularly was the order of the smith, a monastic order devoted to the art of crafting in all its forms. They hailed inventors as blessed by God. Needless to say, they had been really impressed with my works and was pretty much behind me all the way.

That the entire leadership was here feasting was proof enough of that.

Alongside them were the lords who had the most to benefit from my plans. Parchment, Tarth, Trant, Musgood, Estermont and his vassals(with the exception of White head of Wrathtown, the only thing resembling a city in the kingdom) and finally the vassals from the northern Coast. Bar Emmon, Sunglass, Massey, Bywater, and Chyttering.

The rest were either off in the south or boycotting this little get together of mine. Oh well. In the long term, the lords who had come would get to reap the benefits the quickest, while those who had not would come aboard the train eventually.

Alongside my, Lords was The Ancient and Most Honorable Guild of Castlewrights, a new knightly order. Well, new in the sense they had only been knights for a generation or three. The order long predated the andals coming to Westeros.

If the Stories were true, they had been around since Brandon the Builder and Durran Godsgrief had founded the order to help the construction of Storms End. Afterward, Durran had invested them with "Responsibility for inspecting and maintaining the castles of my kingdom." which they had done ever since.

The Maesters claimed that was hogwash, but I didn't give much of a damn what the maesters thought on things.

Whether it truly was Godsgrief or one of his successors, the result was the same.

They had been invested with some pretty hefty authority in all matters regarding the construction and upkeep of Castles in The Stormlands. I had expanded that charter to include Roads as well, seeing as they were very vital in what I had planned for defense of the realm.

Unsurprisingly, they had loved the cement. Like, really loved it. I loved it like Al Bundy loved Wiener Tots.

I wondered how they would feel about the new form of castles that would replace the old ones. The age of gunpowder had come, and with it, the end of pure stone walls. Now one needed dirt-packed behind to deal with balls of lead.

Well, everywhere except storms end I suppose. That seemed like it would remain unchallenged until mortars became a thing.

Still, that was for another day. Today, I laid the foundation for a conquest to take back the sea.

It was an overambitious scheme that would take countless years and manpower and would not reach its full potential before generations afterward. But wasnt that what being Westeros was all about? A stubborn over the top refusal to quit your massive construction project no matter how much it took to get it done.

This was just the construction of storms end, on a grander scale.

The Vale, the Falcon Crown.

King Arthur Arryn, First of his name, the King of Knights.

Arthur

"Nervous?" The pretty woman asked.

"A bit," I admitted.

"You'll be fine. Just say "I Do" and remember your speech. Gods know you spent enough time to memorize it.".

I took a couple more deep breaths as she finished up my cloak and fastened it with a golden falcon brooch.

It was a fur one, expertly dyed blue. I had wanted a regular non dyed one, but my Regent would not hear a word of it.

I was a king, and as king, I was going to dress as befitted my station in life. And in this case, that meant being dressed in an outfit dyed completely blue. Commissioned from the dyeing Mills in the Riverlands, it had cost a fortune in the agreed price, before King Brynden had stepped in and given it to me free as a gift.

That he had gotten a chance to arrange a meeting and had gotten speak with me in private didn't have anything to do with it I was sure.

Not that I had minded talking to him and making trade arrangements and deals, but I had been a sharp irritating reminder of the fact that I was under a regent. One who had gone over every single deal I had made with Brynden and approved and rejected them as he saw fit.

That the Brynden had effectively usurped his own regent and effectively ruled in his own right, just made that sting even more.

It wasn't that Lord Wallace Waynwood was a bad regent and ruler, but he had not let me rule as I saw fit. He had approved and gone through with many of my plans but he had also vetoed many of them.

Thankfully he had approved of the two most important things I had needed to get done.

The first was the colonization of dragonstone and Driftmark. Thank god he approved of that. Though he was more concerned with rooting out the pirates living there, the result was the same. We had taken the islands and laid claim to them. And thus I did not need to wage war for access for the volcanic sands I needed for all my grand plans. Also, I would earn a mint from trading that sand to Durran down in the Riverlands. Yay me.

The second thing I had needed was, of course, an army.

He had loved the formation of the Order of the Winged Knights, in which his own son and my Brother in law, Mordred Waynwood was the first grandmaster.

777 men in plate armor styled in the same armor as the winged hussars of Poland, equipped with two flintlock pistols, a saber, Warhammer, and a massive lance so long they could be used as pikes on the ground. Which was important, as their first campaign would be to bring the mountain clans to heel once and for all.

Trained to fight both on foot and horse, they were an elite force of trained killers. They might not be as many as the armies being built in the west, but that was fine. For now, I didn't need an army numbering in the thousands. I just needed enough to crush and subjugate the mountain clans, and then to patrol my roads.

For roads, I would have.

I had spent a century making roads across Europe. And by god almighty, I would spend another hundred years making roads here.

I would connect every single minor settlement of the Vale by road, whether city, castle, fort town or village, you would be able to get there by road. There was much and more I also had introduced to this land, such as gunpowder, trip hammers, mills, plated steel, terrace farming, and cement. But the roads would be my lasting legacy.

Wallace had not liked my obsession with roads, and they had by far been the largest source of conflicts between us as he vetoed every single one of my planned projects.

But no more. After today, the great work began.

When she was finished with fastening the cloak around me, Mya bent down and gave me a kiss for good luck, then exited out through a side door.

I looked at the door, then took one final breath and pushed them open.

As I stepped out into the light, I was assaulted by sounds. Chatter, clanking of armor, walking feet.

All around were men in fine clothing, men in armor, men in the simple clothing of septons and septas.

As I stepped out and began to walk, I was immediately flanked by 4 winged Knights in full plate. Well, winged in that they were members of the order. No one actually wore their wings today.

We walked through the bustling place, towards the holy ground that had been prepared for my coronation.

Unsurprisingly, everyone made for their king and we had a pretty clear path.

When we finally arrived outside the sept, there were still people arriving.

Mostly nobility, but there were plenty of locals too. Well, plenty as in every one of them had come to watch.

The place I had chosen to make my capital was going to be built on a Fishing village of around 200-350 souls. It was situated at the mouth of the mouth flowing down from Ironoaks, creatively named Ironoaks River, which in turn flowed from the equally creative Waynwood lake.

It was situated in a prime spot for a city for all the reasons that Kings landing and Oldtown were.

Unfortunately for it, the village of Seagull Haven was the victim of geographical politics. Situated on the east coast of the vale, it was an easy spot for the sistermen to raid. That could have been mitigated by city walls, but that would require a Lord willing to invest in it.

As it happened, the local lord who ruled this land was Waynwood. And they had their seat up the river by the great lake that bore their name.

And with that established, and it's own castle town founded, there hadn't been a need to invest in this village. Not helping was that there was another much more developed city not too far away, in Gulltown. All this had meant that Seagull haven was incredibly underdeveloped. Which worked just fine by me, as I would get to make it in my own image from bottom up.

I had gotten control over the village and a bit of surrounding land as part of my Dowry for marrying Wallace's daughter Mya. And from it, I would begin the process of true state-building.

I had already begun on that, with a couple of City walls already way under construction, made of blue cement. They weren't as durable as pure stone, but they were way easier to make stuff with, and much cheaper, not to mention I had way more freedom in how to construct buildings with them.

Freedom was the keyword. It was not something I would get at the eyrie.

The Eyrie was a good summer palace, but it was not a good capital. Nor that defensible in the coming age of gunpowder. I had no plans of my descendants being caught up there as someone blew the mountain down from under us through mining.

Instead, I would make my seat here, in the bay of Arryn. Okay, so that wasn't the actual name. Not yet anyway.

Seagull Haven would be renamed into the Falcon Crown and would be the seat of this nation, the Winged Knights and the Faith in The Vale.

Pretty much every single settlement on the east coast had some religious claim, usually that this was where the Andals first came to the Vale. In the case of this Village, it had been the seat of Septa Mordane(Presumably whom the septa of Eddard Stark had been named after) a local saint(though the faith didn't use that word) who had supposedly performed miracles by the grace of God.

Such as restoring sight to the blind, increasing the fishermen's bounty a hundredfold, and once holding her breath for half an hour when the First men attempted to drown her.

When that hadn't worked, they had simply dragged her up and stabbed her through the gut.

How much truth there was to the story I did not know, nor care. Mordane was a useful religious symbol to hammer the faith down here in the city.

Curiously, there was a ton of saint stories in Vale at this time.

That made me wonder if these had been erased or downplayed by the maesters in later years. That would not surprise me, rewriting out miracles from the faith of the seven sounded like something they would do.

In any case, there was no way that the Motherhouse of Mordayne was going to be able to house all the folks who had come to watch my coronation. So it was held on the ground outside, in an area cleared as a septagon.

The Septa/Mother Superior who would be crowning me, one Mother Arya stood at a hastily constructed altar, and talked to a random septa I did not know. Or was she a holy sister? I'll admit, the nuances of Church hierarchies wasn't my strongest suit.

She noticed me, as did many of the lords gathered around. Those who didn't, did so when my father in law, and now ex regent pulled out a horn and blew to announce my arrival.

The sound carried far across the village, and the sounds pretty much all began to cease. The talk anyway, the sounds of moving steps continued as I began my walk up to the altar.

On the edge of my vision, I saw familiar faces. Mya, her father, her father, The Lords of Royce, Hunter, Redfort, Belmore, Corbray, Grafton and all the rest.

All the Vale Nobility had come to see their king crowned. Many had also come to kiss my ass now that I was no longer bound by Waynwood. I knew he had stepped on quite a few toes during my regency and many were happy to hear he was not going to be part of my main council.

They would presumably have been less happy if they knew I had granted him the title of ambassador, which was going to get him quite a lot of renown, prestige, and cash if the trip to Valyria went well.

Something for another day.

I walked up to the Altar and went to my knees before the Septa, then put my hands together in a prayer pose.

She went up to me and put one hand on my shoulder.

"We are gathered here today, to witness the ascension and oaths of Arthur Arryn, heir of King Osric, the 8th of his name."

"Here in the eyes of The Seven that are One, and those of men, we witness his rise as king."

"But first we shall recall the tale, starting with Hugo of The Hill, and the Longline of the Kings of mountain and vale."

That recounting took 2 hours.

"… And thus King Osric, 8th of his name, taken from us before our time by a stone from the sky."

"And now we have reached the end of the long tale that was, and shall go to that which is and will be."

Thank fucking god. My knees BURNED after planting them on the ground for hours on end. Listening to the tale of house Arryn in its entirety was interesting, but I would prefer to have to be done sitting down. Not burning on my tired knees.

"Prince Arthur was born in the year 334 to King Osric Arryn and queen Amanda Arryn, born Hunter.

"At the age of 13 was elevated to the throne 2 years before his day of adulthood, and thus the rulership of the realm was left in the hands of his goodfather, Lord Wallace waynwood of Ironoaks."

I heard muttering at that, presumably from lords who had something to say about Wallace being described as" Wise".

"Today, however, he had reached the age of adulthood, at the age of 15, and is thus a man by all the laws of this kingdom and is now ready to rule in his own right."

An adult at 15 years. Jesus Christ, no wonder Westeros was so screwed up. Later that would be bumped up to 16 years, but that wasn't much better, to be honest.

It was a long, LONG time since I had been 15 the last time, but I did remember I was a fucking idiot, like most teenagers.

Arya's hand suddenly left my shoulder. It was sudden and I had gotten so used to it being there it took me by surprise, but she just stepped up to the altar itself.

She took in hand a book with a large septagon star on it and continued.

"Arthur Arryn, you who is the heir to the Vale of Arryn. Are you willing to swear the oaths of Kingship?

"I am."

"Then we shall hold one final sermon before God, and then you shall say your oaths."

Oh, Come to the fuck on!

Thankfully that sermon only lasted a "Mere" 10 more minutes of burning knees.

Then she finally got around to the oaths.

"Arthur Arryn, do you as King swear to uphold peace for all your subjects, to wage war against all those who threaten them, to protect the Faith as if it were your own blood and kin and to avenge injustice to your people with blood and steel?"

"This is sworn."

"Will you by the Laws and Customs of this realm, keep and do justice, with honor, strength and knowledge keep the laws of this kingdom?"

"That I swear to do."

"Will you to the utmost of your power and ability to maintain the Laws of God and the true words of the seven? Will you to the utmost of your power maintain in this kingdom the faith of the Seven who are One, as established by right of conquest?"

"This I promise."

Then I shall anoint you, your Grace." she motioned with her fingers and a septa came up, with a crate.

I bowed my head as she began to pour the content of 7 bottles of oils over my head.

Once the final damned bottle was poured she poured a bucket of water over my head and cleaned me with a towel. THEN she finally placed the Falcon Crown upon my head.

"Arthur Arryn, the first of your name, I proclaim you King of the Mountains and the Vales, lord of the Eyrie, the Bloody Gates and the Falcon Crown, protector of the faith and shield of your people. Now. Rise, my son."

At that, she thankfully helped me on my feet(sparing me the possible humiliation of stumbling to the ground) as the crowd roared a variety of things.

Generally, things to do with the word King.

As they shouted and raised their swords or hammers, one call became louder than the others and was in turn taken by all.

"ARTHUR KING!"

"ARTHUR KING!"

"ARTHUR KING!"

Unsurprisingly that shout came from my winged knights who were sworn and paid by me directly.

As they continued I motioned to my Squire, William Royce, a 23-year-old who was skilled with a blade but feared horses like the plague. Not surprisingly, he had never made it to knighthood. He was an excellent bodyguard, however.

He came with the item I had told him to bring. My megaphone.

I held up a hand for silence, I embrace the device in the other.

Ut toon a bit of time, but eventually people began to shut the hell up, and I began my loud speech carried by the tool of all public speakers before the radio made them obsolete.

"MY LORDS! I THANK YOU FOR COMING HERE TODAY, TO CELEBRATE MY CORONATION. I HAVE GIVEN MY OATHS, AND I SHALL KEEP THEM, AS WELL AS DO FAR MORE THAN THAT."

"WE HAVE AN AGE OF PEACE, WHICH HAS LASTED FOR 3 GENERATIONS. HOWEVER, THERE IS ONE FORCE, FOR WHICH OUR AGE OF PEACE MEANS LITTLE, FOR THEY RAID US EACH SEASON WITH NO IMPUNITY."

"THAT IS, OF COURSE, THE WILDLINGS OF MOUNTAINS OF THE MOON, WHO COMES DOWN AND ATTACKS OUR SMALLFOLK, AS WELL AS INNOCENT TRAVELERS WHOSE ONLY CRIME IS TO WISH TO PASS THE MOUNTAINS TO THE WEST."

WELL. I HAVE PROMISED TO KEEP THE PEACE BY THE SWORD IF SO IS NECESSARY. AND I SHALL DO JUST THAT. IN ONE MONTHS TIME, I AND MY KNIGHTS SHALL SET OUT ON CAMPAIGN, TO DEAL WITH THIS THREAT, ONCE AND FOR ALL."

WE SHALL MARCH INTO THE MOUNTAINS, AND WE SHALL BRING ORDER TO THEM. WE SHALL STOMP THE WILDLINGS INTO THE STONE, AND THEY SHALL EITHER KNEEL BEFORE ME, AND BECOME FARMERS AND FISHERS ON THE DRAGONSTONES, OR THEY SHALL UPON OUR STEEL. NO MORE SHALL WE SUFFER ATTACKS FROM THE BARBARIANS FROM HIGH."

I really hoped it would not come to genocide. If there was anything I still prayed for, it was that. Please just let the clans bend after I crushed them in battle and surrounded their people in a trap they could not escape from.

My people did not share my reluctance to bring true destruction of the Clans of the moon. On the contrary, they were cheering like fucking madmen. They REALLY hated the clansmen. Even the lords who were descended from first men themselves hared the clansmen. 3 and a half-century of raiding had killed any sympathy they might have had for them.

I let the shouts of approval continue until they began to quiet a bit before I continued.

"BEFORE WE GO, HOWEVER, I SHALL SET MANY THINGS INTO MOTION. IN PARTICULARLY, A GREAT ROAD NETWORK TO CONNECT THE REALM TOGETHER, AS WELL AS EXPANDING UPON OUR MINING OPERATIONS IN EVERY SINGLE LORDSHIP WHICH MINING EXISTS. BUT FOR NOW, WE SHALL RETREAT TO MY HALL TO DRINK FEAST OURSELVES UNDER THE TABLE."

My "hall" was just that. A literal hall with nothing else but a relatively large hastily built kitchen beside it, as well as a lot of purposes. It was recently constructed, but it was most certainly not a house fit for a king.

The food though was great. Better than great. I had not skimped at all on the food whatsoever. I had exported huge amounts of various spices from the east, hired the best cooks the Vales had to offer and introduced a lot of new food myself. The most notable being noodles, which my lords seemed to have developed a particular fondness for.

Other dishes and deserts I had introduced were Napoleon cake, pancakes and various new improved forms of jam.

As my lords were feasting themselves and drinking, I was eating slowly and preparing myself for the consummation of my marriage.

When I had been sent here by god knows who, I had been 13 and 4 months. If I had bedded my wife then, no one would have raised an objection. While less common than child brides, child grooms were generally not frowned upon on this continent.

On the contrary, in a perverse twist, a twelve-year-old who slept with a woman was regarded as an impressive lad. I had not even considered doing so.

I had shame still. Unlike certain others, I could mention.

Now, however, there was no way out, I was a man, and my goodfather, my brother and my wife had all been very firm that it was time to consummate the marriage.

I had no real arguments against that anymore, so I would need to bite the bullet.

It wasn't that I disliked my wife, either as a person or in looks. On the contrary, she was pretty hot. And NOT a child, which helped immensely. At 20 she was a woman grow and out of her awkward teenage years completely, having blossomed into a woman. Not the largest in size, nor the prettiest, but she was pretty hot.

Still, it felt wrong.

The Riverlands, Scales

King Brynden Justman, the First of his name, the Trader King.

I woke before dawn. As usual.

As consciousness began to take over my body again, I slowly and methodically slipped out of bed, making sure to not disturb the woman by my side as she still slept heavily.

I took in her stomach, already swollen again with child. Had it been that long already?

I got dressed on my usual getup of a thick fur coat. Spring was still early, and the winds had not yet gotten warm enough that I couldn't get away with wearing this oversized robe.

And I would keep wearing it until I couldn't anymore. It might look oversized and silly on me, but it hid how small I actually was underneath it. At 13 I still hadn't quite hit my growth spurt yet, which was a big problem for me in getting people to take me seriously.

I might have usurped the real power from my regent, but that didn't mean many of my lords didn't still regard me as a child. Everything I could do to emphasize how small I actually was was a huge bonus.

Poor lord Mooton. He just wasn't built for the regency. Oh, he was an amazing administrator, and he had effectively been the hand of the king(though that title did not exist in this country or time for that matter) during my grandfather's reign.

He had been truly excellent at his job and had brought in wealth like nobody's business.

However, in this regard Benedict the second had for once in his life, made a poor decision. While my grandfather lived, he had been effective in large part due to the respect the lords had for their liege.

Once that was gone, he had made several large blunders, and made a lot of enemies, in particular, lar the houses of bracken and blackwood, from which Justman was a shared cadet house. The two houses were in these days joined at the hip, there had been a lot of threats and angry words, but I had thankfully been able to soothe them.

That I had given both lords positions in my government had helped a lot. Positions mooton had not been happy about, but he had agreed to keep the peace.

That had been my first step to taking over my regent's power.

The second was my inventions. Trip hammers, dye industry, water mills for both flour making and to weave textiles, and most importantly of all, both a booming paper industry as well as printing presses.

I had earned a LOT of goodwill amongst both my smallfolk, the faith and lords for all these inventions, enough that many came to talk to me personally about the inventions.

Power had slowly eroded away from Mooton. That he had not replaced the entire garrison of Scales with his own men when he became regent had been a massive mistake in him establishing control over me, as half the original guard force was people who had been there as I grew up. And to a man, they would die and kill for me.

The number of mooton loyal men had also decreased as both Blackwood and Bracken had brought a retinue.

All this had been bubbling slowly until the word came that Tyrion Lannister was building a standing host. That had quickly escalated to Gardener also establish a standing army, and the Hoares of the Iron Islands(whom I was currently allied.) followed suit in response(Harrald had flat out admitted to me though, that he was going to make a standing army anyway, and Tyrion simply managed to do it before him.).

That had meant the Riverlands follow suit. And so a great council had been called to do just that and get all the lords on board with it. In the end, it had been my words, not Mootons who had carried the day. I had gotten my Scutage, and with it, I had begun to build an army, equipped with wootz steel plate from the islands.

That had really been the final blow to Mootons regency, and since then he had effectively accepted his lesser role. That he had gotten a shit ton out of the regency probably had something to do with it. His daughter was queen, his grandaughter was heir, and most likely he would see a grandson sooner or later. He had also gotten a large payment from my grandfather's will, as well as the ultimate price from me. A city charter.

Blackwood and bracken had complained bitterly against that until I revealed that I was granting both of them city charters as well. And not just them either.

I had granted city charters to Maidenpool, Harroways town(Now Harroway City), Pinkmaiden, The Stoney Sept, Blackwood hall, Stone hedge, Riverrun, Saltpans, Fairmarket, and Seagard. No less than 11 cities. And a 12th one, currently under construction in the east. Once it was done, it would be the new capital of the Riverlands, Juston.

I had considered calling it Justice City, but that would have been too corny even for me. I would call the royal palace, the Hall of Justice though.

Located on the piece of land by where the blue and green fork met, the city would be the center for trade along the trident. It would be connected to both the bite and ironman bay through canals from which trade would flow. Like Constantinople, the city would be protected on two sides by deep water, and on the third, a massive set of double walls made to stand up to cannon fire.

If all went according to plans, it would be the greatest trade city in Westeros. Even if stark built a canal to connect the two sides of his coast, I would still be closer to both the Iron Islands and the westerlands, not to mention the lands of essos. I was making a mint already on all my trade both east and west. The iron islands needed food, the vale wanted dyes and textiles, EVERYONE wanted paper.

I had managed to make long decades long treaties with two of my neighbors on trade alone, more than enough time to train an army.

Now I just needed to come to an accommodation with Stark, Durrandon, and Gardener, and I would be able to spend the rest of my life building the Riverlands up to become Westeros version of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.

As I walked quietly out of my bedroom, I meet my guards for the night. Tom and Tom. A couple of soldiers, one from the lands that in one timeline would have belonged to house frey, and another who was from around Saltpans.

"Morning men." I greeted somewhat quietly. They both nodded in response.

I walked to the right, toward where my "Development room" was.

As I came there, no less four guards stood outside guarding it.

"The usual your Grace?" I asked one, all of them well familiar with my usual routines.

"Aye, and make sure to get me some tea as well. And Lord Bracken once he gets up out of bed."

One of them went to do my bidding as another opened the door for me, while another took down a glass lantern for me from the beams.

I thanked him, then went inside the room.

It was as I had left it before I retired last night. A room filled to the absolute brim with documents detailing every single production center I had dominion over.

I sat myself down in my seat, put the lantern on the table, then picked up a paper on a steel mill just by Scales.

No luck trying to recreate the Ironborn steel. My steel was good, but it wasn't whatever kind of Damascus steel the Harrald had.

That was to be expected though. I was far more interested in the total number of steel that was being produced. It was promising, but very much room for improvements here.

I took a look out the window westwards, towards where the mill was. Aye, there was room for improvement everywhere. The more I produced the better. Stark would eventually challenge me for production of cloth and textiles, the Iron Islands was already out competing me in steel, the vale had better cement, dorne would outproduce me in salt, and the reach would win when it modernized and adopted paper making.

I was rich in resources, but all my neighbors were better in terms of specializing in them. I had to establish a stronghold over the markets now before the rest really got up to snuff.

Also, make all of them as dependent on my production as humanly possible.

After a while, one of my guards came with my meal, spaghetti, and Tea. A weird mix but I wasn't a culinary genius. Spaghetti, pasta, and tea would be my main contributions to Westeros food.

As I ate I went over a military report. The battalion I had sent to help out my cousins from House Hoare had set sail from seagard along with 50 Longships.

Good. I needed to stamp out the worship of the drowned god permanently and make sure that the Hoares remained on friendly terms with the Justmans who had put them on the throne of the iron islands, to begin with.

I had no plans of house Justman suffering the same irony as the original timeline.

Establishing friendly relations with all those around me was the key to making the Riverlands strong. That and internal stability. Both of whom would be greatly helped the larger my family.

Arthur Arryn had chastised me for not having shame. That was alright though. I had heard much more biting insults in my day. And to be frank, I had whored myself out for far lesser causes than the future of a nation.

New Thenn

Thor Thenn, the Godsighted

tor

I walked down the Gangplank into my new home.

It had taken an inane amount of work to get this shit on the road but I had done it.

All it had taken was to convince my people I had had a sight from the gods, teach them how to make cannons and hand cannons, conquer our way to the shore, begin making large shipyards capable of making galleys, thus skipping several hundred years of development in sea technology.

Then I needed to make my men seafaring, which had taken quite the while on its own. Then we just had to navigate our way down south to the Lagoon where Bravos would one day stand, and take the excellent spot for ourselves.

Thankfully, the lagoon really was empty. It had been difficult to establish exactly when I was, but given that Hardhome did not exist, and the Starks and Boltons were still kings, I guessed we were sometime before the andal invasions.

I could only assume I was right.

From this lagoon, I would forge a new empire. A Thenn empire. Stretching from the north tip of western essos into all the lands which had once been andalos. I just needed to ferry everyone from the east coast beyond the wall to New Thenn, our new Capital. Once everyone was across, we would breed like crazy, and in 15 years, I would begin my conquests.

And who was gonna stop me? Nobody that's who.

Now I only needed to ferry the rest of my people, which would take a while. But in the meantime, I would go about building my city.

There was 60 000 Thenns at the moment, and by the Time I was done, i planned for there to be a million.

End of Part 1, The Final Years of the intervening Years

Part 2 , Rising Powers will begin early 2021.


	9. aenysdreamer1

Jan 21, 2020

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#1

Chapter 1 - Water, Ale and Steel

Aenys Targaryen, the first of his name ascended the Iron Throne as King of Westeros in the year 37 A.C.

In the years that followed, many would say that Aegon the Dragon might have united Westeros, but it was Aenys the King of Dreams who made them one.

This is in many ways true enough. It was not under Aenys that House Targaryen and their domains reached their Zenith, nor was his reign one of the great eras of peace and prosperity which would define the modern age before it came crashing down in flame and ice, but without his reforms, technological advancements and bureaucracy, the kingdom of Westeros would most certainly not have reached the peak of it's imperial might, power and territories to the degree it would under his successors.

Historians, nobles and the clergy have in the years afterwards given him several epitaphs, from the positive, such as "The Reformer", "The Lawmaker", and "The Good", to the bad, such as "King Abomination", "King of Ashes" and the "Breaker of the Faith", however, the epitaph which history would remember him with was as his father before him, the one his people at large would choose to call him.

Aenys, "The King of Dreams."

Extract from "The prelude to Maegor's Conquests." by Arthur Pressborn, historian at the Royal university of Bloodstone city.

Aenys Targaryen, crown prince of Westeros, firstborn son of Aegon the Dragon and heir to the largest country in the known world, was laying up against a dragon, piss drunk and snoring in the middle of a small plateau.

By his legs lay several open caskets of rather expensive ale. Or rather a couple of empty kegs, as they had clearly been cleared out of their content.

That was rather impressive, given he had only been away from dragonstone castle for two days. Not to mention completely out of character for the man.

Aenys had never been a heavy drinker, in all the years Steven had known him. He barely had a taste for light Northern Mead, much less heavy ale from the stormlands. Yet that was what he had apparently been downing over the course of two days. And been keeping it down if the lack of vomit was any indication.

He approached the two of them, man and dragon, carefully and slowly. Aenys just kept sleeping, but Quicksilver turned her head and appraised him with silver eyes.

She made no move to incinerate him with fire, which was a good sign. The she dragon had always been a social creature, rarely snappy, unlike many other dragons steven had known in his years of service. She also knew him from the time she had lived at dragonstone, before Aenys took her across the kingdom. That did not mean he should be brazen about approaching her.

If she decided he was a threat to her master… Well he would die quickly at least. The charred remains of an orca which had probably served as her lunch that day, was a hard reminder of the power of this creature.

She did not decide to burn him thankfully, and he was allowed to approach Aenys unmolested.

He knelt down and inspected the prince. Aenys had seen better days. A red nose and flushed cheeks, along with the smell of a man who had spent 2 days with a dragon. The smell of sulfur was heavy in the air and on the prince. Thankfully he looked much better than he had for the last week. The crown prince had come down with a harsh fever, which had nearly killed him. No trace of that remained though. His forehead was cool and natural and though filthy and drunk, he looked no worse for wear than any other piss drunk man.

This was not the first time the crown prince had gotten this sick, and more likely it would not be the last time either. Despite a rather immense amount of physical training, he had never managed to overcome his inborn frailty.

That said, despite being laid low with sickness many times in his life, Aenys had an astounding ability to bounce back from his near encounters with the stranger.

None of them had been as astonishing as this time though. One day, he had seem as he would finally succumb to death. Then in the morning, he had come out of bed, fever gone completely and sound of mind.

Then, as if to challenge that, he had taken two kegs of ale, a bag of food, bound them to Quicksilver's saddle and taken off.

There hadn't been much anyone could have done to stop him despite the insanity of going flying so quickly after a fever. Prince Maegor was in the Stormlands for a tourney, Queen Visenya was on a trip across the narrow sea, and King Aegon was on a trip to chat with his bastard half brother at Storm's end, and Aenys own family was in King's Landing.

With neither the prince of dragonstone, nor a dragonrider there, no one was able to prevent the prince from doing as he pleased. That was the problem with the blood of the dragon. If they decided to do stupid, foolish things, there wasn't much you could do to stop them. Lady Ceryse certainly was not up for challenging the blood of the dragon.

He had assumed the prince had left to go back to his family, but then they had gotten word two days later from a local shephard that Quicksilver had chosen a spot 3 hours ride from the castle to roost.

He had made the choice to go check up on the prince, as was his duty, and had made the trip on a donkey.

A couple of Maegor's guards had come with him, but they had remained down below the plateau. They had come to guard him against bandits, not dragons.

The prince stirred beneath his touch, then slowly, grogedly he swatted away his hand.

"Who the he… Who the hell are you?"

His eyes swam for a second, before his pupils stabilized as he finally managed to focus.

"You're… You're the maester. Stannis? No. Stannis is…" He shook his head as he suddenly cradled it after a bout of pain which could only be a monstrous hangover.

"Yes your grace, i am Steven, the Maester of Dragonstone."

He handed the prince a wineskin.

The Dragon Prince eyed it along with a groan.

"More vineis the last… Last fucking thing i need now."

"It's a brew for the hangover your grace." He replied calmly.

Quick as a cat the prince snapped the wineskin from him. He then clumsily fumbled the opening for a few tries before he finally got it off and began pouring it down his throat.

Then he gagged, and Steven got the delightful look of Aenys trying his best to not throw up what he had already swallowed.

Ah… He Lived for that look. Disappointingly, the prince actually managed to keep it down, though with some obvious struggle as he forced himself to swallow.

"Fuck me, what is this stuff?"

"Raw eggs mixed together with aurochs blood." Steven replied cheerfully. "It's a classic riverlander for hangovers popularized during the reign of the Teagues, and as it happened, we have some captured auroch at hand at the castle, so i mixed this up for you."

He stared at him as if he was mad.

Then he looked down on the wineskin, then back at the maester, before handing it back.

"I'm afraid to ask, but… Why do you have captured aurochs at Dragonstone?"

"Oh your brother had some imported from the Trident. He's been enjoying himself recently by having bulls charge him, dodge their charge, them butcher them with Dark Sister."

He continued staring it him with that oh so enjoyable dumbfounded look. Then he looked beyond him and stared out over the seas. Southwards. Towards the storms.

"That does sound like Maegor."

"Your brother has been complaining that tourneys are growing dull. He's been talking that if the aurochs pose no challenge for him, he plans of taking a ship north for the Barbarians melees instead."

He shook his head, then winced in pain.

"God what a fucking nutcase." He muttered as he staggered to his feet.

Then he blinked, and looked at Steven, as if he only now realised that he was actually there.

Probably not the smartest move to say that about Steven's Lord while he could hear it. Not that Aenys needed fearing him telling it on. He had lived through his years as Maegor's Maester by having tact. He was not planning on losing his head by egging Aegon's sons against each other.

Especially not when king Aegon was still strong and implacable as dragonstone itself. The old king seemed likely to rule another decade more at the very least.

"Wait… Did… Did you come all the way from the castle just to give me that… Monstrosity of a brew?"

"Of course." He replied cheerfully.

"We're a day's ride from the castle! You walked all this way?"

"We're three hours away from the castle your grace, and i rode along the sea, then climbed up here. If it was true isolation you seek, i would recommend the plateau to north."

He pointed in that direction towards a rather forboding black mountain range.

"Your aunt is fond of the place, and it's impossible to reach from ground."

"Thanks… You… You need any help getting back?" he asked as he began to fumble his way towards Quicksilvers saddle.

The dragon had observed them quietly during their chat observing them. Now though, seemingly sensing that it was time to go, she began to stretch those enormous white wings.

"No, i have two guards with me to keep me safe your grace. Also, you should know that i've prepared the egg you originally came for. It's waiting for you by the gate house in the courtyard."

"I see. Thanks."

With that he started to climb up into the saddle and began the work of fastening himself to the dragon.

"Take care Stan-Steven."

With that he finished his work, and without any further comment, or signal from her rider, the enormous beast took a short burst of running steps before she threw herself into the air. Her enormous pale wings blocking out the sky over the plateau.

As Quicksilver began to truly soar over the water i cursed myself. I cursed my carelessness, i cursed my idiotic way of handling the shock of new situation and i cursed this abysmal body.

3 days ago i had been old, with all the things that plagued those who reached their twilight years.

Now i was relatively young, yet somehow i was even worse off.

And that was only physically, not my situation. I had been old, but i had a sweet pension, a nice house, and all the podcasts i could have wished to live out my twilight years in peace. Now i was young, and i was the heir to a kingdom that should have been fiction, as non existent as middle earth.

Oh god, was Tolkien's legendarium real too? Did all of that happen somewhere far away from earth? Or in the past? Or in another universe? Or wherever the hell i actually was.

I had been a quiet historian of the victorian age. Now i was the heir to a medieval kingdom. Well, let's not mince words, it was an empire, not a kingdom.

There wasn't a united culture here. People did not think of themselves as westerosi first, and regional origin second. And in the original story they never would.

It had been the realisation that i would have to do something to change that which had set me off to go find some "Strong" drinks and get some peace.

I would need to do something to forge a national identity for the majority of a continent.

And fix up Kings landing. And deal with the faith. And end the custom of incest. And deal with Maegor and Visenya. And do something about the dornish raids. And beat winter. And prepare for the others. And to raise as much land as i could possibly do from the sea. And make no less than 4-5 canals, each at least twice as long as the suez canal. And deal with the maesters. And make a road network to connect all the kingdoms.

And the rebellions, lets not forget those. I had one foreign invasion, one noble rebellion, one peasant revolt and one religious revolt. And the faith would undoubtedly rise up as some point as well.

God it was too much.

And that was not even getting into all the tech i needed to get implemented as quick as humanly possible. Aenys was not young, even by the standards of the times, and that was not counting the physical weakness he was cursed with.

At 29 i was middle aged, and in the original timeline, Aenys had either died of stress or been poisoned at the age of 35. Even assuming i managed to beat that, i could still drop dead from a random disease at any time.

It was to put it mildly, a lot of stress.

I had handled that stress… Poorly.

I could not afford to do that again. Aenys, always sober suddenly becoming an alcoholic with no explanation? No, that wouldn't raise red flags at all.

I would need to find some convenient excuse if my father-i mean if Aegon asked.

I had a thousand problems, and infuriatingly, i could not begin working on any of them for… Months? A year?

I knew literally nothing about between now and when aegon died. The year was 36 and Aegon the first died in the year 37 at Dragonstone while talking with his grandsons.

And that was it. I didn't know jack shit about how things would unfold up until then. I knew a lot of what would happen after, but that did not help much in the here and now.

Before i became king, there wasn't much i could do other than plan. Getting Aegon to go along with my plans wasn't gonna happen.

There was no way in hell i was going to get my cheapskate old man onboard with something as ambitious as turning the entire blackwater bay into raised farmland.

It would be a rather expensive affair, but unlike most of my plans, it would effectively pay for itself.

Well, after i had created the great dikes that would allow me to turn the entire blackwater bay into a freshwater lake anyway. That part would be slow, expensive and require lots of manpower and time. And it would not pay for itself. It was necessary though. Completely necessary, if the crownlands were to become competitive with the rest of the continent. Sure i would not be able to compete with the stormlands own raised lands(Thanks Winter) but it would still become the second most fertile region of westeros.

And god knows it needed it. The revenue the crownlands produced was embarrassing. It should not be the second poorest region of the nation, but that it was. In terms of self generated cash, only the iron islands lagged behind.

If it wasn't so sad, it would have been hilarious how The Crownlands sucked the wealth out of the rest of the continent and didn't use that cash for anything other than royal shit. Hell, Aegon hadn't even bothered to invest in roads within the region itself.

It was no wonder that westeros had never managed to become one Kingdom in spirit as well as name. The capital province was allowed to languish, and the rest of the provinces had not been incorporated at all.

Well, that shit was not going to stand.

Jaehaerys might be a terrible Dad, and not gone far enough in his state building, but he, and he alone had had the vision of truly uniting this continent under the dragon.

All he had done, i would need to do, as well as far more. And in much shorter time than he had.

And like all endeavours, it would need cash to get it started.

Thankfully i had ideas for that. Schemes i had learned from the glorious conquest of the sea my homeland had waged so tirelessly, things i had learned from extra history, as well as a couple of schemes of my own.

Still, for now there wasn't much i could do, other than plan and wait. And do regular royal duty stuff.

For one thing i kinda had to get my ass back to the royal progress. This entire trip had all just been to go pick up a dragon egg for little Alysanne, then get the show literarily back on the road.

So that something to look forward to. An endless parade of feasts, hunting, mingling with nobles and all around parties. Actually, yeah, that was something to look forward to. Royal progresses were great stuff, at least for the monarch leading it. It meant i got to enjoy tons of good free food, travel and all around the perks of being a crown prince.

It would be a nice calm period before the enormous storm that would enfulge the continent upon Aegon's Death.

He had forged this land together in blood and fire. The metal was not tempered however. That would be my job. I would bind it together as one it with Iron, Fire and Steam.

And dead bodies. LOTS and LOTS of dead bodies.

Because what good king of westeros got anything done without killing thousands of people?

Speaking of which…

As we flew across the waters back towards Dragonstone castle, i spotted something in the sky. A black dot moving, far away, flying towards me.

It would seem Aegon the Dragon had finally gotten news of his son's illness.

Lady Alyssa Targaryen was not having the best of times awaiting her husbands return.

Recovering from giving birth was not an experience unfamiliar to her. She had after all gone through it 4 times before, and she had recovered fully after each time.

And like all her children, little Alysanne was a young strong child, thank the gods. She had come when she was supposed to and she had screamed as a young strong babe should. Now she was sleeping soundly, in the room they had designated for her.

They were supposed to begin the latest royal progress, this time a year long journey through the reach, to witness all it's greatest castles.

But Aenys, finally caving in to Rhaena had agreed that they could not set out before they had gotten a dragon egg for little Alysanne.

That trip was only supposed to last a day or two. It had now been over a week since Aenys took to the skies across the waters.

First they had gotten word from Dragonstone that Aenys had gotten sick, then they had gotten a message he had recovered, and they had presumed he would finally return to the city.

That had been 3 days ago.

And yet still no signs of Quicksilver in the sky.

Rhaena had been talking about taking Dreamfyre and going to Dragonstone herself to find out what was taking her father so long.

She had forbidden it of course. As the only dragon rider remaining with them, it was of great importance she remained in case they were attacked while they were outside the walls of Kings Landing.

Rhaena had argued that the 400 strong group of knights, retinue, Kingsguard and freeriders would be enough to protect them if someone decided to try and attack the royal party. She might be inclined to agree, but it was a far better prospect to have overwhelming power on one's side. Not to mention that just having a dragon assured that no one would be foolish enough to even try.

Neither brigands or rebels would dare to attack them so long as a dragon was camped alongside them.

As was her wont, Rhaena was fuming at being denied something, but she had not flown off in the night, for which Alyssa was very grateful for. She was far too rowdy for a lady.

Not to mention the company she kept. Now she had retreated to her room along with lady Royce and Lady Stokeworth.

She had complained to Aenys several times about it, but he had always been indifferent to her… escapades with her ladies.

"Let her have her fun, so long as it isn't a boy, what does it matter?" He had never taken her seriously on the matter. So long as she did not attempt something along those lines with boys, Aenys would not act to prevent it.

Not that they needed to worry about that. Other than her family, Rhaena had never meet a boy she had given the time of day.

She far preferred her ladies, her dogs and her cats. And Dreamfyre. Dreamfyre above all.

As for her other children, Aegon and Viserys was off exploring Aegon's new Castle, or at least the parts that was finished. The only part that was relatively done by now was the great hall around the Iron Throne.

That was still more than enough for the two boys. Well, that and the knights training there. She had no doubt Aegon had restarted his training again. He so did love to play at war.

Viserys did as well, but he was 7 and Aegon was 10. They were not equal in their training, nor in body. She was glad they they were taking to it so well. Aenys was driven but… Well his love for swordplay had died years ago. Now he only did it to keep in shape.

Gods know he needed that.

Aegon and Viserys were cut of a different cloth. Strong for their age, and with an enthusiasm Aenys had not had since before they were born, they had taken to the training yard like a dragon to the sky.

They weren't Maegor, but she was proud of them nonetheless. They would make fine knights one day. For now they would have the honor of squiring for a king.

For her part, she was going over letters from all across the realm. She had built up an impressive number of friends over the years traveling across the kingdoms of Westeros, and much and more they would share with her.

And ask for favors as well. Thats was part of being royalty.

As she read through a letter from highgarden, a hornblast rang. She stiffened as it came again. If there was a third….

The third hornblast came, and with it, the knowledge that a dragon rider had come to King's Landing.

Which either Meant Aenys had finally come home, Visenya had came back from across the sea, or Aegon had returned from Storm's end.

As it would turn out, all three were true.

King Aegon landed on the plain outside the walls of kings landing, on the spot the wheel house the royal family would travel with rested.

Alongside him, was her father, Aenys, her grand aunt Visenya and somewhat surprisingly uncle Maegor, who had ridden with his mother.

All the targaryen family was once again in King's Landing. It had been a while since that happened. Ever since grandfather and auntie Visenya's big fight, the queen had avoided the King whenever possible.

As they landed, she and her mother alongside little Jaeherys were there to greet them with all the nobles who were preparing for the progress.

In front was of course sir Rupert Crabb and Robert Flowers of the Kingsguard, who knelt as his king descendent from the back of Balerion. Behind him, another man descended from the black dread. He was of average height, a bland nondescript face, with black hair and blue eyes like the sea, dressed in a coat of chainmail and a white cloak over his back.

In his belt a wicked black warmace was fastened alongside a knife. She thought he seemed familiar, but she couldn't place him. Well whoever he was, the white coat and lack of any sigil made it pretty clear he was the new King's Guard member grandfather had gone south to recruit.

Grandfather was his usual stoic self, until he saw her and Jaehaerys, upon which he smiled. People always said grandfather was an eternally calm and stoic figure, but she had never known that man. He had always been generous with smiles, gifts and praises to her and her brothers all Rhaena's life.

Father did not look his usual self. Truth be told, he looked a mess. His hair had obviously not been washed in a while, his beard had not been trimmed and his nose and cheeks were far too red, as if he had been having a fever or been drinking.

His eyes were tired, and though he mustered a smile, she could tell there wasn't much energy in it. He must really have been sick at dragonstone, if this was the amount of enthusiasm he mustered for a smile.

Uncle Maegor was as he always was. A jaw which seemed like he incapable of unclenching it, seething stare and a stance as if he expected combat at any times.

Aunt Visenya tried to look the same as she usually did. But her eyes betrayed her. She was mad about something. Truly mad.

It was grandfather who first broke the silence after descending from Balerion.

"Rise." He told the two knights on bent knee.

Then he turned to mother.

"It's good to see you again my lady. I would like to speak with you before you leave, but i am sure you are eager to speak to your husband after his brush with death."

She blinked. Death? Had father truly been so ill that he had nearly died?

Her mother seemingly had similar thoughts.

"I was… Unaware that the sickness was of such grave matter. The letter we got from dragonstone simply said he had a sickness and would recover for a few days."

For a second she could have sworn grandfathers eyes, quickly flashed towards Visenya and Maegor, but if so it was only for a very brief moment.

"Is that so? Well, mayhaps he did not wish to spread the news to the kingdom at large. No matter. What is done is done. Mayhaps it was for the best."

He nodded to Aenys before continuing.

"Either way my lady, i shall be quick before i leave you to my son. I see that neither my hand nor older grandsons are here. I assume my squires can be found at the keep?"

"They can indeed your Grace. The boy's have been most eager to explore the castle, now that it's nearing completion."

"It's not. I have seen the work from above. The castle is barely fit for holding court. But time shall remedy that i am sure. For now, i shall have to go speak to my Hand."

That was… A rather strange way to talk about what was the second largest hall in the land. The hall which had sprung up around the Iron Throne was a true marvel, even amongst the enormous grand halls of westeros, and Rhaena had seen many of them in the progresses she had been on.

"Also, we shall need to outfit our newest member of the king's guard."

He motioned to the black haired man.

"This Raymont Baratheon, the newest member of the order. He shall accompany you on your journey once he is properly outfitted in plate."

The man bowed his head.

"A pleasure to meet you. It shall be my honor to serve as your shield." Even his voice was bland as sand.

"A pleasure." Mother replied courtely.

After that the gathering split up. Grandfather gave some orders to some knights who went with ser Raymont into the city.

Then he took off with Balerion towards the castle.

Grand Aunt Visenya also took off with her own dragon, but uncle Maegor went off with some other knights.

Once grandfather had finally left, mother finally went up to father and gave him a hug. She was rather fond of those, no matter how many of the court was watching. In this case, some of their ladies in waiting and a number of knights. Around his leg, Jaeharys did the same.

Father, showing how tired he must surely be only gave a hesitant hug of his own.

Gods he must be tired.

Quicksilver eyed the place where dreamfyre currently lay curled after her meal of two bulls.

They were siblings, having both been come from the late Meraxes, but if either of the animals cared, She had yet to see it.

Samantha and Alayne both stared and gaped at Quicksilver, as she stood tall and with her head upraised, appraising Dreamfyre.

She smiled, both her friends not being used to dragons the way she was.

The Blood of the Dragon was not afraid of it's own fire.

"Quite a sight is she not?" She said in a teasing tone.

"She's beautiful." Samantha said in a breathless tone as of one of the gods themselves had come down from the sky.

"Like living silver." Alayne replied in agreement.

She scowled.

Neither of them had reacted that way towards Dreamfyre the first time she had shown her to them. They'd been terrified of her and her great blue wings, yet here they were marveling at Quicksilver who was one and half as large.

"I suppose."

Wanting to quickly change the subject, she went on.

"So, what did you you think of Ser Raymont? Not quite what i expected when Grandfather said he would find the greatest knight of the stormlands."

Alayne stared at the dragon for a moment more before finally snapping out of her reverence.

"Well… he did seem a little plain. Very much so in fact. And such dryness."

"Even old Humfrey strikes a more galant figure i would say." Samantha piped in, finally having finished gawking at Quicksilver.

"Is he truly son of Lord Orys? It's hard to believe that such a boorish man could be descended from a Targaryen."

Yes. That's right, he was father's cousin, she remembered now. Well half cousin. Was that a thing?

"Speaking of Ser Reymont. The king said he would need to be armored before we go did he not?" Alayne said, looking after the party of knights that had gone towards the city gates.

"I believe what he said was that he would need to be outfitted before he accompanies us."

She rolled her eyes.

"You know what i mean Rhaena. My point is, how long will that take? I mean, we should start today now that your father has returned right? That was the plan was it not?"

"I'm not certain. I suppose it would depend on whether they have armor fit for ser Reymont at the castle. If not they will need to forge it and… how long would that take?"

She turned to Samantha expectantly

"Depending on how many pieces that needs to be made for him, it could take anywhere from a couple of days to months."

She grimaced.

"There's no way mother would wait that long. She's been eager to get us going for weeks."

"I suppose… Still, are you sure your father will be well enough to travel?" Alayne asked, glancing over at her father.

Rhaena glanced in his direction as well, as he was finally beginning to untangle himself from Mother and Jaehaerys grasp.

"I'm not sure. Unless he leaves Quicksilver behind he shall need to ride her as we travels. He might not be up for that."

Gods, he looked out of it. He was a man always so full of life and energy. Now he seemed lost and as if he wished nothing more than to go and rest.

She couldn't hear what he and mother talked about, but she guessed they were discussing something along similar veins as their discussions on point of departure.

Barad Knifefoot was used to to knights and armed men coming to his shop. It was part of the business of being an smith specializing in armor.

So when his doorman came and informed him that 2 men wearing the dragon livery of the king came in, he was not surprised.

Most likely, they were knights or men at arms in need of some armor.

So he had gone to greet them with the usual smile for customers,and asked them what their business they were there for.

They had unceremoniously told him he had been summoned to the castle for a meeting with the crown prince. Right then and there.

They had given him a few minutes to dress for something less… Boorish, but nothing more than that. No cleaning his face, or grooming himself for the meeting with royalty.

It was not the way one wished to be summoned to the court, but it was the way of things. The Dragons were Queer folk, all men knew. One did not question them.

So as he dressed in his finest black doublet, embroidered with Silver Helmets, he had left it to his men to do the business for the day as he was escorted to to the castle, uncleaned and smelling of all the delightful smells of the forge.

Thankfully his escorts weren't the silent type. When he asked why he had been summoned they had told him they did not know, but that Prince Aenys was summoning every single Smithy owner in King's Landing to the castle.

Well, wasn't that something. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it was something.

As they walked up the large hill, he saw other smiths being escorted up to Aegon's High Hill. Some he recognized from fellow members of the Armor Makers Guild. Other he did not.

He recognized that bastard Eddard Northmaker who had stolen more than a dozen customer from him through better steel imports, old Tommen Storms the guild master and others he was relatively familiar with.

All around was men in work, stones being carried by cart, masons doing their stony work and knights their slashing and smashing.

The stones weren't anywhere close to done, but one could see the bones of what one day would be a massive fortress.

He was wondering where they would be holding this little get together, when he saw a relatively large open space, where a rather massive number of his peers were standing around talking. Unsurprisingly, that was where he was led.

As they approached, a man holding a writing board in one hand a quill in the other stepped up to them.

"Name and shop?" He asked in the bored tone of a man going through the motions.

"Barad Knifefoot, i am the owner of Barads Emporium."

He nodded boredly, wrote on the board for a moment before moving on to the next smith being brought in. They continued on to the gathering.

There was a few tables with tankards of water and some cake.

Cake. It said something about how rich the royal family was that they could afford to whip out cake to feed over a hundred men for nothing more than a side dish.

Unsurprisingly, a lot of smiths were gorging themselves on it. He smiled. Uncultured barbarians.

As he began to mingle with his peers looking for someone friendly, he spotted good old Sammy, a man he often worked with for chainmail.

Sammy did not spot him though, busy as he was consuming some pink cake.

"Oy, sammy!" He called out.

In response he stiffened, before turning around and looking at who said it. Then, seeing who it was, he relaxed and flushed down what he had in his throat with a tankard of ale.

Only when he was finally done with that did he respond.

"Barad, i see you made it you old turtle. Come man, there's still plenty of cake left for ya. Eat it before the prince comes and drags us back to business."

I smiled. "As much as i love good food, i think i shall refrain. The last thing one wants is to be stuffing oneself as the prince comes to do business. Stuffing one's face is a rather good way to kill dignity."

"Suit yourself. I on the other hand shall continue to enjoy our great host's hospitality. As for the whole dignity part…" He chomped down on a brown cake piece before continuing.

"If his grace was planning to talk to us individually, he would have done this in smaller groups or one by one. That he has gathered ALL of us, here, means we are going to get hit with some overarching decree of some sort. We aren't here for some commissioned work or the like. Not with ALL the guilds present."

"Just another business meeting. Those comes every week. Cake however, does not." He took another bite of his cake obviously enjoying the taste of the brown pastry like a man in Dorne enjoyed Water.

That made some sense, though it went against all he had ever learned of meetings with nobles down south.

He did step up to the table and pour himself some water though. Clear and clean like crystal it was, which made it stand out from the water the blackwater had produced lately.

"So, how's things going with the watch?" He continued, not wanting an awkward silence to form.

"Any luck with that break in?"

"Oh yes, they found the thief and my stolen goods. Stupid idiot hadn't considered that my personal mark would give it away. Then again, i doubt the man could read, most burglars can't."

"So you got it back then? That's good to hear."

Sammy scowled. "Most of it. I didn't get back any of the chainmail, and i lost 10 Dragons to the damned watch for their troubles. Five to get my stuff back and 5 more to make sure they didn't just let the bastard off with a beating."

"Ah, the glory of law and order."

"Aye, they've been growing much bolder since the King moved to Dragonstone. They didnt skin you back in the day before king Aegon moved out of the city. Oh, there were a few bribes here and there you had to make, but that's just business."

"The hand might be amazing at generating coin, but he aint good at inspiring fear in his men. The city guards aint like men at arms bound by oaths. Men who fight only for money need to have some fear instilled in them. And Stokeworth just ain't up for that.

The city guard was a pain in the arse for any of the shops that had to deal with them. They knew the shops could pay, and thus they took bribes to just do their damned jobs.

"So they cut off his hands or hang him?"

"Hanged."

Well, it was one less thief in the world.

After that, it was chats of their wives and his mistress, the market of armor making of the last era and they had gotten into a debate about the pros and cons of selling to mercenary companies, when a shadow from above suddenly covered the him and Sammy in darkness.

He knew what he was about to see when he looked up. He had grown up in King's Landing after all.

Still, the sight was one which struck him with awe.

Two enormous wings like sails, a coat of gleaming shining scales which in the sunlight burned like the sun, bright and radiant.

Then, with a sudden burst of speed the burning light descended to the ground like a bolt of lightning.

With a slam of sound it landed right by the crowd, and the wind it created as it hit the ground blew off more than one hat in the gathering.

"Seems the play is about to start." Sammy chuckled as he devoured one last piece of cake.

Aenys Targaryen was a tall man. Not as wide or powerfull as his father, but he was half a head taller than most of the gathering.

And he wore silks of such magnificence that it put the finery of everyone to shame. A marvelous robe of purple trimmed with spotted eremine, outfitted with a belt of golden plates imbued with Rubies shining like fire in the sunlight.

Like all of his family, the prince had a mane of that unnatural silver gold hair, dropping to his shoulders in ringlets. On his chin he had a well cleaned but somewhat unshaven beard, like one who had been on a journey. And those eyes… The true purple of Valyria of old that was.

All the pomp and majesty could not hide one obvious truth however. The man was tired. Exceptionally so.

One could see it in his eyes, whereas he wore a smile, the dark shadows under his eyes and the way he adjusted his eyes, spoke of a man who desperately wanted some rest.

As he stepped down from the massive silver beast, he stood still for a moment taking in the gathering. Then he was approached by a few servants, along with 4 guards who hastily approached and flanked him.

Aenys talked with them in tones to quiet for them to hear, but soon enough he finished whatever it was they were talking about, and the servants made haste on whatever it was they were doing.

Only then, flanked by 4 men in black plate did he finally approach the gathering of blacksmiths.

He opened the talks with a loud voice which carried far on the open ground.

"Ah, my Blacksmiths of Kings Landing. I must apologize for this sudden summon, but alas, i do not have much time to spend here before i leave."

Well, he did have an impressively loud voice. It was melodious and calm, though not feminine in any particular way.

Answering the prince, one of the guild leaders(He was not sure of what craft he was master off.) stepped forward and bowed.

"Nonsense your Grace. We are all Dragon men. Ready and eager to serve our monarch and his family as it pleases you."

"I am glad to hear of it. But i am not here for service. I am here for a business contract."

Then he turned his look to the crowd all around, maybe 120 or so men.

"I have recently invented a new form of smithy which allows for a blacksmith to both hammer and cast steel and other metals 10 times stronger and faster than smithies currently do."

Silence.

The Prince's grin changed from calm to the look of a cat who just got away with a chicken.

"Now, i am sure that all of you are rather interested in exactly how this can be the case."

"Tell me, how many of you are familiar with the inner workings of a water mill?"

More silence.

Water mill? That thing that… Grinded flour? He had seen a few in his time, but… He had never gone inside one if that was what he was asking.

The prince waiting maybe 10 seconds of silence before he continued.

"For all those who do not know, water mills uses large wheels of wood at their sides to power machinery inside to grind grain into flour, stronger, faster and more consistently than humans ever could."

"Oh." Sammy let out in a low voice. Barad looked at him. He had the expression of a man who had just figured out something that had baffled someone for all his life.

The Prince went on.

"It is a rather simple change, one which one would think someone else had discovered long ago, but apparently not. So the invention fell to me. For you see, i recently realised that one could modify the machinery of the Mills to harness the power of the rivers to do other things than simply grind flour."

He was starting to see what sammy had probably realised. Probably.

"In this case, a new form of hammer i have have dubbed "The Drop Hammer". As the name implies, it is a massive hammer, large as one of the stones of this castle, which is is lifted up by the power of the water, and slammed down upon the anvil with force far greater than any man would ever be able to hammer a hammer."

"Simultaneously, i have also developed a design for a bellow to go along with the anvil, also using the power of the water to pump with far stronger force and consistency than any humans could ever do."

Barad felt that old ache in his bones. The ones he had last felt when he had been forced to leave old Qohor. He was not stupid. He understood what the prince had just explained. His world was changing once again.

"Combined, this design will allow for the construction of a new form of smithy, one which will outstrip any old smithy in productivity a dozen times over."

"Now, as i am sure you all understand, this will mean that any smith who does not adopt the new system will never be able to compete with those who do."

That was putting it lightly.

"I am also perfectly aware that most blacksmiths does not have the coin to commission a brand smithy. Thud they will be left bankrupted as they are left behind by those who can."

He lifted an open palm for silence as angry sounds began to be heard from a large number of the smiths.

After about 10 seconds of them quieting down, Prince Aenys continued.

"As i do not want any of man of expertise to become destitute, i have prepared a contract for all of you, establishing a deal between any of you who sign it, and me."

He motioned with his hand as servants brought stacks of paper and a writing board.

"The contract is simple enough. The crown will begin to construct these new forges down by the blackwater, and as each of them gets finished, i will exchange the ownership of each for the property of the old shop of the new owner."

That… sounded pretty good actually.

"Subsequently, i am also developing a new form of smithy even more powerful than this one, and any who signs will commit themselves to doing this dance again, once i have finished the design for this new forge. That is years and years away though. Now, if anyone have questions you may feel free to ask them."

As it happened, many did.

Sammy was the first to step forward, as everyone else began to just ask and thus just drowned out each other.

He again motioned for silence. Then as silence once again reigned he turned to Sammy.

"Yes?" He asked, taking no notice of Sammy's filthy hands and sleeves.

"Your grace." Sammy said with a short bow.

"How will you determine who gets the trade for new forges the first?"

"Why, it is determined first by what the blacksmith works on, then in an alphabetical order based on their names."

Alpha-what?

"First of course will be armorers, then followed up by weapon makers, then bolt makers and so on and so on."

He looked to the rest of the massive crowd.

"Any other questions?"

There was a lot, but none that Barad cared for.

He had some plans to make.

As people began to sign the contract, he stood in turn with Sammy at his side once again.

"Exciting ain't it?" Sammy said with a smile.

He snorted. "It would have been much more so if we didn't have to move outside the city walls."

"Eh, we'll be fine. I lived by the river long before i moved here. Pirates dare not attack King's Landing anyway."

He nodded towards the silver beast that was currently being fed with a sheep they had carted here for it.

Barad wished he felt as confident as his friend. He had grown up on the Dothraki Sea. It had been many years since he felt safe outside Walls.

"Amazing no one has thought about this before. The idea is the same as how you Qohormen hammer back home back over the sea right?"

"Yes." He confirmed.

"Back home we use men to lift the large hammers, but the idea is the same. Lift a huge hammer then let it's massive weight do the work."

At least he thought that was how this new form of hammer would work. He didn't quite get a good picture from the Prince's description.

After i was done getting the blacksmiths to sign on to my contracts, i took to the sky once more on Quicksilver.

As we rose up and up and up, i began to take in the city of King's landing.

God, it was a fucking mess.

It wasn't AS bad as it would be 250 years down the line, but fuck me it was a huge ass mess.

It was filthy, it stank, it didn't have easy to get clean water, it didn't have a sewer system, no grid layout, countless alleyways, the streets weren't filled to the brim with shit, but they were filthy as any streets i had ever seen.

I would need to rip it down and build the entire thing from the ground up. There was no other way to fix this problem. And the longer one delayed, the more it would hurt to fix it.

And i knew just how to do it. Lots and lots of apartment complexes. That was the simplest way to do it. Every single building in the city made for living in, would be an apartment complex. That way i could build everything around a grid system, and making sure that every single road was wide enough for a cavalry charge.

There would be no fucking barricades by revolutionaries here thank you very much.

I would also need to build a second internal fortress to compliment The Red Keep.

I would use that as the headquarter for the national army.

God, there was so much to fucking do. And where to start? Should i focus on building an army to finish my last conquest and the riches that would come from it? Or should i focus on the city? Or was a more balanced approach the best course?

Well, at least the very first thing i needed to do was clear. Making sure that i crushed the uprisings quick and decisively.

Also probably try and save Ronnel Arryn and his family.

Unsurprisingly Gyldayn's writing was wrong on many accounts. Some where he just hadn't bothered going into depth about stuff and other times where he didn't bother and probably times where he just didn't have the right sources.

In the case of Ronnel Arryn, the Maester had not bothered to mention what happened to neither his wife or his children nor that he even had any.

I did not need to be a genius to predict they probably joined their father out the moondoor in their kin's short lived rebellion.

As for the moment, the heir to the Vale was one Arya Arryn, second child of Ronnel arryn and Eddara Stark, and the oldest living child of the union. She had a younger sister as well named Sharra, but for the moment i would focus on Arya.

As the heir to the Vale, she would need a consort, and what better consort was there than a prince?

For my part i needed to get rid of Jaehaerys. Preferably by marrying him off somewhere remote. And short of the North there was nowhere more isolated than the Vale.

With the benefit of hindsight, i knew Jaehaerys was the most charismatic and capable of my children. Great for overthrowing a tyrant usurper. Not so good to have around when his brother would take the throne.

He could grow up to become a massive threat against Aegon's reign, and it was better to nip that threat in the bud before it ever materialized.

With a bit of luck, i could get Ronnel to send Arya to serve as my ward during my Royal progress. That would allow her to associate with Jaehaerys, as well as making sure that if i didn't manage to save Ronnel, i would still sit with the Ruler of the Vale.

Then i could choose a regent as i pleased.

As for other matches for my children, i needed to find a bride for Aegon before he did something Stupid and eloped with Rhaena. It would be much better to let her have her female company and remained unmarried.

Aegon was a different story. I needed to find him a betrothal as quickly as possible, and from one of the great houses. Preferably the Lannisters. More gold was always better.

Not to mention i would need them to maximize setting up a national bank for the kingdom. A marriage would help greatly with that. Viserys would also need a marriage, but it was nowhere near as urgent to prepare.

Also find some title to give him.

It was tempting to just grant him Harrenhal, and give him the task of turning it into a city, but i had no interest of the supposed curse befalling my family.

So i would need to find him somewhere else to settle. Summerhall perhaps? Or maybe one of the cities i was building in the riverlands. I had a lot of planned settlements i could give him.

Either way, i would make sure he and Aegon got to spend as much time as possible together. Foster that brotherhood to the hilt.

For now, i had done what i could do here. I had used almost every piece of cash i personally owned to set up this deal with City's Blacksmiths. And i would need them ready to go when i became king.

I would have preferred to jump straight into the era of coal and steam powered hammers, but that wasn't happening. To make those i needed steel much stronger and better than anything westeros was currently capable of making. So i would need somewhere to really get water powered trip hammers going, then use that place to make all i would need to make steam powered hammers.

Then i could use steel from those to begin constructing more steam hammers all across the nation. It would take tons of time, but once i got it going i could really begin to get this age of steel and steam going in earnest.

Also, i needed to have as many suits of armor ready to go as possible for the army.

The first host would be some 8000 men or so, and i wanted all of them so well outfitted as i possibly could have them.

Given where my only conquest would be, i did not need any cavalry at the moment, but i did need as many heavily armored footmen as humanly possible. And archers. Well, crossbowmen. Bowmen would be a thing of the past once plate became a thing anyone of any means could buy.

Speaking off, i kinda should try and figure out which armor designs i would use for my army. I wasn't an expert when it came to plate. Well, other than later age cavalry anyway.

Which wasn't going to be relevant here. That outfit was for the age of guns and cannons, which i was not going to bring about.

Oh, i would introduce gunpowder. I kinda had to in order to increase mine productivity which was going to be so important for my plans. It would also help farmers making new fields, which was always helpful.

Guns though were a different story. I had no plans of helping with that in any way whatsoever. My biggest military advantage was dragon riders, and there was no way in hell i was going to jeopardize that advantage by introducing cannons to the world.

My successors could deal with that when Westeros had a field army numbering in the hundreds of thousands.

If westerosi tech development was any indication, it would probably take the better part of a millennia before they invented the flintlock. Well, unless i got a good school system going.

It wasn't that high priority for me, not compared to my quest to bring about the age of steam, but if i had extra resources to spare, i could probably put together a rudimentary public school system to go along with my universities.

Teaching my subjects basic math, how to read and the dangers of inflation was a pretty important thing after all. Not to mention a great spot to bring in propaganda into the newer generation.

South of the neck i was going to make a new ritual to celebrate one's adulthood by being granted a copy of the seven pointed star. That would hopefully drum up interest in learning to read.

Then, if i got the resources i could use that demand to set up a basic school system by making it a smallfolk right to be taught to read.

God, there was so much to do.

And before my Old man got that stroke of his, there wasn't too much i could do beyond laying some groundwork.

"The most heathen and vile of all kings that has ever been in all the world, intent upon destroying the one true faith, which the seven has created to guide and shepard all people. An abomination born of incest, whose father fucked his sisters, to create these monsters in the shape of men."

"We must throw down these vile heretics, lest we shall all follow them down into the seven hells. We must cut down the demon serpents that serves them, or we will all burn like bonfires, our skin seared off us and our bones ashes in the ruined remains of our homes. Do you hear it? They come now, stand strong men, stand against the demons, shoot them out of the sky."

Extract from "The Final Septon" by Anonymous writer.

Last edited: Mar 8, 2020

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Jan 21, 2020

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Threadmarks Chapter 2 A Funeral and War Against The Seas New

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Kingofwinter

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Jan 28, 2020

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#32

Chapter 2 A Funeral and War Against The Seas

The Flag of The Kingdom of Westeros. First version, in use from 37 A.C until The War of The Faith.

Alyssa was enjoying the sight of Jaehaerys playing with one of Rhaena's dogs, a northern wolfhound more than large enough for the 3 year old boy to ride.

Rhaena was not with them, as she and her ladies were out hawking, leaving the hound to Jaehaerys to play with.

The boy was rather fond of the animal. Well, he was fond of most animals. Growing up with all the animals his sister owned, he was close with pretty much all of them, other than certain of his sister's cats.

About the only animal he had not immediately taken to, was his dragon. He simply did not have that inborn bond with Vermithor that Rhaena had with Dreamfyre.

He was not scared of dragons though, the way Aegon was. He just needed a few years to grow yet before he would be able to truly bond with the young dragon.

Since Little Jaehaerys wasn't comfortable with with him yet, the little bronze beast had remained at Dragonstone for their journey, leaving him free to grow at Dragonstone. Which was just as well. They did not need a young dragon accidentally lighting the wheelhouse afire.

Sitting with her, though not watching Jaehaerys was his bethroed Arya Arryn. The girl was… A strange one.

At 9 she was over twice as old as her bethroed, and once they had gotten news that she would be joining them as Aenys Ward, she had expected a girl like any of the other she had known in her years.

Instead she had gotten a girl who read constantly, was fascinated by violence(she had shown a truly disturbing smile when a jouster died of a broken neck during the Tourney in Highgarden.), and with a with and biting tongue that seemed out of place on any proper lady, much less one 9 years old.

She was honestly not certain how to advance with the girl's education.

Unlike Rhaena who she long determined simply needed more discipline to focus on the feminine arts(a discipline Aenys simply refused to enforce) to get her away from… Less savory matter, Arya was well versed in the female arts long before she had joined them at Dunstonbury. She simply did not enjoy them nearly as much as her books.

When asked to join in embroidery, she would dutifully do so, unlike Rhaena who had more than once excused herself on Dreamfyre when she was in one of her moods.

She was not the first woman Alyssa had met who liked to read. She was one who often hated discussing most topics though. She did not care for religion, knights and their daring deeds, nor the latest gossip which the rest of her ladies loved oh so much.

About the only feminine thing she had truly enjoyed talking about was fashion, which had amounted to getting help to remake her her Blue and white dress with silk instead of Wool and fur, to better deal with the heat of the Rech.

Once she had achieved that, she had become as silent on the topic as she was on everything else.

Paradoxically, though she cared little for knights, she often made the bizarre choice of chatting with the freeriders who followed the progress to listen to their tales of battle.

She had been horrified when she learned this, but the girls personal guards had calmed her that this was her normal behaviour and in any event, she never did it alone always being guarded by several of the most impressive knight Alyssa had ever seen.

Her father had sent a company of 20 knights with her to guards her. They had integrated themselves into the household well enough, and as she saw each time they sparred, these were men who knew the art of war.

She had considered forbidding this behavior, but thankfully the girl had no interest in picking up a sword, unlike Rhaena. So she had let it go for the moment.

Then there was the girls taste in books. Rather than tales of chivalry, she instead read history books. At the moment she read a text simply titled, The Hungry Wolf. An biography on one of the old Stark Kings of Old, from the days when they were kings.

When she had enquired with who he was, Arya had explained that Theon was the greatest military leader the North had ever seen and in her eyes, the best military leader westeros had ever produced, at least before Aegon came to make the land whole.

She had been somewhat begrudging in admitting that the hungry wolf's accomplishments were easily overshadowed by King Aegon. He was her ancestor after all, and the girl clearly took pride in that fact.

Which had baffled Alyssa when she had enquired what made him so famous.

What had made Theon so famous, was ending the Andal invasions permanently, when he had sailed across the narrow to Andalos, and there had destroyed the kingdom, and put millions of men, women and children to the sword. He had then cut the heads of every single person his army had killed, and taken them back across the sea and mounted them all along the North's eastern coastline, from the neck to the wall.

It was a gruesome tale, up there with the the conquest of the Rhoyne. And the girl grinned as she retold the story.

That more than anything had made her weary of the girl. This would have been macabre enough from a woman grown, much less one not even 10 years of age.

This girl was not someone she wanted her precious boy to marry.

But at this stage it was too late to back out from the marriage. Ronnel had agreed to the marriage contract, and it would be a heinous insult on the part of house Targaryen to annul the arrangement.

More to the point, neither her husband nor her goodfather would allow it.

King Aegon was a ringiver, who rewarded loyal service. His only demand for the match was a rather hard contract on the topic of the ownership of any potential dragon egg, and that Vermithor would be returned to Dragonstone upon Jaehaerys death.

Once that had been agreed, he had even agreed to pay the dowry himself, as was the tradition when a man took his wife's name(Not a common thing in Westerosi politics.).

And Aenys… Well, he liked to be loved, and he never really went back on a gift or promise. His charity and openhandedness to all was one of the things she loved about the man, but it could and had been extremely frustrating many times in her marriage.

He was far too open with his generosity.

At the moment he was flying across the bay in which the mander flowed into, apparently wanting to see the sight.

Why he wanted to see that, when he had flown across this water many times before, she did not know.

He had changed somewhat since his near brush with death all those months ago.

As she had hoped he began to recover back to his regular self as time passed and they traveled.

However, he had picked strange habits. In particularly an obsession with maps. From every single town or castle they had visited he had seeked out any and all maps he could find, then he had gotten a scribe to copy them.

He had also begun to make his own maps.

When she had asked, he simply said that he wanted maps to better make plans for when he became king.

How these smaller maps detailing every minor settlement under the sun would help with that, she did not know.

He had also begun a love affair with something she had thought Aenys had lost the love for years ago. Combat. Or rather Armor.

He had been asking quite a lot of knights on which armor was the best, to which he had gotten many answers, which he had compiled in notes, and sketches.

Out of curiosity she had gone through all his notes once while he was out flying.

It was an interesting bunch of parchments. In particularly a map of blackwater bay filled with lines in the sea. What those were she had yet to get out of him. He had just smiled and said that she would learn in time.

He could be infuriating sometimes that husband of her's.

On a more positive note, she had enjoyed his ideas for a new flag symbolizing westeros itself, and she had both helped design it, as well as making the first of this new flag.

It had the targaryen dragon with its three firebreating heads in the middle of an imperial coat of arms on black. Crowning the imperial arms was an amalgam of Aenys own prepared crown and a stain glass with all the colors of the Rainbow, symbolising the faith.

All around this was the symbols of the Wardens and Lord Paramounts.

The direwolf of Stark, the falcon of Arryn, the trout of Tully, the Baratheon Stag, the Tyrell rose, the lion of Lannister and the golden kraken of the Greyjoys.

All on a pure black background. It was an fine, glorious design, which both she and Aenys had poured themselves into. She doubted the poor flagmakers who would have to replicate it again and again would enjoy it's intricate design, but the people of the kingdom would doubtlessly find it impressive.

Her thoughts on her family and their recent escapades was interrupted by the maester of the Castle they were at, a little Hold on the northern tip of the mouth of the mander, called Beacon wall.

The Maester looked rather grim as he approached her with a letter in hand.

The waters of the coast of the Reach was beautiful. The Aenys of old had more than once marveled at them as he flew ahead. The new Aenys did not.

All i could see was a final confirmation that i would not be able to do as i had originally planned with the west coast of Westeros.

The west coast was far deeper and less shallow than the narrow sea, that was common knowledge. But flying over and really looking at it, i had to accept that my plans to increase the landmass of the Reach by 20% was dead before it even got off the ground.

God damn it all.

I had wanted to really implement land reclamation all over Westeros.

But alas, the west was way too deep for my plans. I MIGHT be able to do something with the shield islands, but that was about it.

I wasn't gonna be able to reclaim the most obvious spots, the mouths around the Mander and old town. They were way too deep.

And trying to make a dike to the Arbor? Yeah that wasn't happening.

Great.

Well, time to head back then.

Quicksilver began to change course though she did not do so immediately, instead taking her time.

It was an interesting experience that the dragon just knew what i wanted without me saying a word. One interesting piece of dragonlore i had learned just rooting through my Memories was that there were a lot more nuance to dragon riding than i had expected.

For one, there was a clear gap between riders, that just couldn't be explained by anything other than how strong the magical bond was between mount and rider.

Riding whips were a common thing, but not all rider really needed them. Some needed them for specific tasks such as getting the dragon to go up, some to go down, some to get it breathing fire and some needed them to get the dragon to do anything.

Interestingly, neither Aegon nor Visneya was of the kind that needed no whip at all. I was, though whether that was due to my and Quicksilvers own bond being particularly strong, or a trait i had inherited from Rhaenys i did not know.

The youngest of the dragon trio had not needed a whip to get meraxes to do her bidding. The strength of the bond also seemed like it could change over time, as Aenys had once needed a whip during his first years, before phasing it out completely.

It was an interesting bond, not as powerful as the bond between a Warg and his second skin, but just like with wargs, there were varying levels of strengths.

Quicksilver was obedient, and generally did as i wanted, though she often took her sweet time doing it. I think she just liked to fly, and knowing where we were heading she wanted to extend the flight. Or maybe i was just attributing complex thoughts to her.

After around half an hour we began to approach Beacon Wall. A small, though pretty powerful castle, seated on a hill with a rather gruesome spike filled moat.

It was a pretty strong holding considering that it belonged to a landed knight. One Ser Garth Beacon.

It was not a particularly prestigious holding, but it had. Given an excellent chance to really scout the bay for spots where i might be able to make artificial islands. There had been none unfortunately.

As we approached the castle i noticed a lot of movement around the monstrosity that was the wheel house.

I had always imagined that a wheel house was a term for a carriage of some kind.

It was not. The monstrosity was a fucking house on wheels. Massive and with tons of wheels that could and had broken over this trip. I needed to replace those with steel wheels. Assuming i even kept it around.

If i did live long enough to make any forms of trains i would most certainly not.

We landed outside the walls by the wheelhouse.

As we landed, everyone turned and looked at me with looks i could only interpret as looks of condolences.

Huh, i was pretty sure i now knew what was going on. I had expected a month or two.

Any doubt what it was, was quenched when i saw Alyssa with a black piece of cloth around her arm. A sign of mourning.

She had been crying i saw, though nowhere near as much as Rhaena who was sitting by a rock. She was bawling her eyes out, while being comforted by her friends.

Jaehaerys was nowhere in sight so i assumed he was inside the Wheel house then.

As she approached me, she tried to say something, but i cut her off before she could speak.

"Who?"

I already knew the answer, but i had a role to play.

"Your father. We received a raven With a message from Dragonstone. The king had… A stroke. He's dead. I'm sorry Beloved."

I closed my eyes.

It actually did hurt. The part of me that was Aenys really, REALLY hurt at those news.

It wasn't quite that Aenys as a person had ceased to be, more like he and i had… Fused, though with me in the firm driving seat.

Still, the feelings Aenys had on matters could be… Really overpowering at times.

I breathed heavily, shaking as i fought back tears i both had no feelings about, as well as on the brink of a collapse.

As i was regaining control, Alyssa stepped up and hugged me.

It took me by suprise for a second before i remembered, oh yeah, my wife was a very affectionate person.

In any case, i hugged her back.

Then as i finally calmed down and we separated, i said "I need to go." No time for sentimentality, i had to get my ass to Dragonstone and deal with all the problems that would mount the continent.

Thinking along similar lines Alyssa nodded.

"Aye, back to Dragonstone, i know. We've prepared food and spare clothing for you."

She motioned to a bag i now saw was prepared by the Wheelhouse. One of the large empty saddlebags made for the dragon saddle.

"And the flag?"

She gave a weak smile. "Yes love, i prepared it as well."

"Good, good. Once i have left, make all haste back to King's Landing, and go by the northern routes. Do not cross the mander."

"...Why?"

"If my predictions are right, the Dornish marches will be alight in flame rather soon. I would rather you guys not be anywhere near them when it happens."

She looked a bit confused, scared and worried all at the same time, but she nodded.

All around us, most of the people had gone back to their duties, pointedly ignoring their prince- No their King's talk with his wife.

The exception was my two King's Guard knights, who true to their oaths instead stood by in a defensive manner, as if expecting attacks on their sovereign at any time.

Both of them waited quietly and patiently, until i finished talking with Alyssa. When i turned towards them, they both knelt.

"Your grace." they both said, though they didn't quite manage to do so in unison despite their best attempt.

"Rise." I said shortly. I did not have time for formalities.

As they got back to their feet, i continued. "You two are to accompany my family back to King's landing."

"As you say your grace." Hill responded. Baratheon followed with a nodd.

"You will be traveling alone then?"

For a moment my eyes turned in Rhaena's direction.

I did not need another guard, especially not given that the rest of my five swords were all waiting for me at dragonstone.

I could use another dragon rider though.

Those thoughts were squashed pretty much immediately. Even ignoring my parental instincts, Rhaenys was what, 14?

The girl had no military training to prepare her for combat, nor was she mentally ready for it. Even if i did manage to convince myself to drag the girl with me, she would not handle the upcoming slaughter.

I would need to give her training to harden her for military service, but that could wait until she was older. As in, an adult.

The girl was a dragon rider. And i could not let that go to waste.

"Yes."

After saying goodbye to all my family members, my two king's guards and apologizing to ser Garth for cutting my visit short(something i had no doubt he was rather glad for given he no. Longer had to feed us.) i took off.

Assuming i booked it with minimal rest, i would reach Dragonstone in 4-5 days.

Then i would need to quickly lay the foundation for putting the coming revolts down quickly, actually put down those revolts and finally, what would probably be my dangerous task.

Handling Maegor.

I was under no illusions about what a dangerous game that was, but that was something i had to do.

With Maegor there was only 2 options. Get him inside the tent, or kill him.

One or the other.

I had to either make him truly serve(if not like) me or i had to find some way kill him.

Complicating the matter was his mother, who i DEFINITLY had to kill.

Maegor was a sadist, a bully and while not the truly sociopathic levels he would reach as king, Aenys had seen enough of his life to know that Maegor was more than capable of true brutality.

At the moment that brutality was far more focused and precise than it became after his fight with the Warrior Sons, but the potential to fall to true madness was there, with or without possible necromancy.

That said, i did have a few things going for me. For one, was that Maegor, for all his faults, was not an ambitious man. At least not at this point.

Despite Visenya's scheming to get Aegon to name him heir, Maegor himself had always been indifferent towards the throne. It was one of the reasons Aegon had never stopped being affectionate with the man, even as he fell out with his mother.

That was only for the moment though. From the original timeline i knew Maegor would eventually start listening to his mom, and finally usurp the throne.

Which, more than anything, was the main reason Visenya had to die. I could not risk trying to get Maegor inside the tent, while also keeping around his mom whispering in his ear that he deserved the throne.

I was going to use the hell out of her before the knife in the back though. Vhagar was not a resource i could let go to waste. And once she was dead, Viserys could take her dragon, and Aegon would then have Quicksilver, Dreamfyre and Vhagar against Balerion. Massive as he was, the black dread would not win that fight.

That was just in the worst case scenario though. Hopefully it would never come to that.

The other advantage i had was that i knew just how bitter Maegor was about not having an heir. A problem i could fix, provided he wasn't completely infertile. Hopefully, he was not. After all, other than not knocking his first wife, all his fertility problems had come after Telissa of the tower.

I had no doubts that the horribly misshapen stillbirths were her fault, whether through necromancy fucking up his seed, or the explanation she had given after torture.

Note to self, do not let Maegor go to Pentos.

Still, even if my plans succeeded, there was a massive inherent danger keeping Maegor around.

Namely i was trying to make him the Dalinar to my Gavilar. He was such a potential resource, a force of destruction with a ruthlessness that i could use to make him the bad cop to all my bloody plans.

I did not WANT to unleash Maegor upon my enemies. Bit Maegor was a force, that once unleashed could not be controlled.

So you better not rise up against me okay? Elsewise the black dread awaits.

Of course the problem came once peace was established. The first 5-6 years would be either war, or preparations for war. So long as i kept giving Maegor enemies to fight, he would hopefully be satisfied with that. That was what he lived for after all. Blood and dominance.

The problem came once peace was established. I did not have much hope Maegor would be able to handle peace any more than Dalinar Kholin had. Probably way worse.

Still, that was a bridge to cross at a later date.

Finally, after days of travel and staying at random holds to sleep for 4 hours a day, we finally reached Dragonstone.

As we flew across the port in the shadow of the great castle, i took a look at the ships in the harbor. It was was packed. There was a number of familiar banners on the ships as well.

Velaryon, Darklyn, Bar Emmon, Sunglass, Rosby, Tarth and… a ton of others i did not recognize. So a rather large gathering had come to see Aegon on his last journey.

Great. Just what i wanted. An audience.

Soaring upwards towards the massive castle, i saw things had not changed much since last i saw it.

The monstrosity of black stone was unchanged, the banners of black and red on the walls was the same as ever.

As we passed one of the the giant black dragon statues, and prepared to land, i saw that my coming was somewhat expected.

People, high lords and servants alike were running about as fast as they could to prepare their Kings coming.

I considered giving them some more time to prepare and maybe circle around the castle a few times, but i decided against it.

It would mean a smaller audience after all.

So we landed, right in the courtyard with that oh, so satisfying CRACK of a landing dragon.

Some movement stopped, but many kept moving running about.

As i began to dismount i looked about for Familiar faces.

I recognized a lot of the lords, some of the dragon handlers who ran up to take care of quicksilver and some of Maegor's knights.

The one i was looking for was Visenya, but my search for her was interrupted when 5 men in white armor marched up to me.

I couldn't see any of their faces as they wore the standard templar helmets of the king's Guard(i was gonna have to implement a better standard helmet for my elite guard.) but the complete whiteness of their equipment made it pretty clear who they were.

Then as they came right before me, lord commander Corlys Velaryon bent his knee while offering me a heavy golden crown. MY crown.

The other 4 followed suit. Kneeling i mean, none of them pulled out a second crown. Though that did raise the question of where the old man's crown was.

As i took the crown, and put it on my head i spotted Viserys, carrying a huge sheathed sword that could only be Blackfyre.

The boy had obviously been crying a lot, what with his red eyes, but at the moment he was trying to keep it in and keep a stiff upper lip as the brits would say.

True he didn't manage it all the way, but the boy was 8, so i would cut him some all slack.

"Rise, then follow." I told my King's Guards, then i walked over to him.

Viserys tried to offer me Blackfyre, but being 8 he did so much more clumsily than Velaryon had.

Still i gently took the blade he offered me, then i bent down and gave him a hug.

He stiffened, but quickly returned the gesture. And if i heard him sniffle i ignored it.

As i finally disentangled myself from him i asked for the person i wanted to see the most after visenya.

"Where is Aegon?"

One of the King's guard(I think it was Clarence Crabb) answered my question.

"He's in the sept your grace. With the king… Your father."

Viserys clarified. "He's been keeping the King's vigil since he died. He says he will not leave Grandfather's side until his king relieves him off his duty."

I see. I wasn't sure if i was angry, impressed or just baffled by the fact that no one had forced some sense into him. He was a boy of 11, yet these adults hadn't forced him to bed. Unless they had seriously carted a bed for him to sleep in inside the sept.

"Well then, i shall relieve him before we send my father on his final trip. But first…"

I looked around once more.

"Where is my aunt?"

No one answered but all heads turned in one direction. Queen Visenya(Or was Dowager queen? She wasn't my mother but… no calling her that would imply Maegor should be king.) was considerably less pissed than last time i saw her as she walked down a set of obsidian black stairs.

In looks though, she had changed little.

She was still tall, long braided silver hair, and with that a face that made her look like a female leonidas. Dressed in the same armor she had worn when she and her siblings conquered Westeros.

Right now though, she was looking at me in a measuring way.

Did she realise i was planning to have her killed at some point? Or did simply regard me as a weakling?

"So you finally come Aenys. If i had known you would take almost two weeks, i would have flown and picked up Maegor."

So, confrontational right off the bat and… Wait?

"Maegor isn't here? Where is he?"

"He's in the North, fighting in melee's some such."

Why? What had happened to get him so far away from Dragonstone? The only thing different was my sickness and stay here on Dragonstone. How had that lead him to go North?

Well, however it happened, the result was the bloody same. The first time i actually needed Maegor and Balerion, he was nowhere to be found.

Change of plans then. I would need to deal with my revolts without Maegor.

"I see. Well, i had i had planned for him to be here in person for this, but oh well. My first degree as king, is to name my brother Maegor Targaryen as the prince of Dragonstone and it's lands, Vassals and incomes. To be passed down in through his line."

If i had hoped to impress Visenya, i would have been disappointed. She neither looked approvingly, nor disapprovingly.

"That is mighty generous of you."

"I prefer things to be clear Aunt. My brother was effectively the ruler of the island until father moved from King's Landing, though he never had a formal landed title here. I wished to change that, so i did. Let no man say i did not take care my own."

Then i changed gears.

"Now that that has been cleared, it is time we handle what i came here for. My father's funeral."

Aegon was tired.

It wasn't that he didn't sleep, but a chair was a poor substitute for a bed.

The only times he had excused himself from the room the king rested in, was to go into a sideroom with a chamberpot. Other that he had remained with his king.

He had been grandfathers squire. It was duty to see him to his final rest. From the moment he had died, he followed him.

He had been here as the silent sisters did their work, and gods that had been a disturbing experience. But yet he had marched on.

Hardships was the greatest teacher. If he was afraid of death, how would he handle battle?

Still, he had been in this room for… How long was it now? It felt so long. Yet the guards at the door told him it had only been a week and a half. It felt so much more. It felt like he had been here for months, inside these walls, only the light through the windows to remind him that there was a world outside, where the winds blew, the rain fell, and the dragonmont let out smoke.

This was his world now. A room dedicated to the Seven that was one.

He had always found scripture reading to be boring stuff. It was nowhere near as exciting or interesting as… Well pretty much everything else under the sun.

Yet he could not deny that he felt the gods looking down on him in here.

The maiden with her blue eyes so sad for the loss of the greatest of kings. The crone with her white blind eyes yet so full of wisdom and compassion. The fathers judging eyes of gold that knew his shame and the warrior frowning face and dissapointing eyes of red seeing him and his lack of bravery. The Smith, the only neutral one with eyes of green. The mother above, looking so much like his mother, with her flowing silver hair and purple eyes. There was no judgement there.

And finally the stranger, who had come for grandfather. The beast, death itself, who came to all, to take their lives.

None could stand against him. All would die one day. Father would die, mother would die, Viserys and Rhaena would die.

He would die. One day he would lying on the pedestal in the middle of this room, his corpse rotting away, all breath having long since left it, waiting only on the fire to come and consume his corpse, to turn him to ashes so that he would be put to rest here amongst all that remained of Valyria of old…

The door opened suddenly withouth warning.

Turning around he saw viserys, aunt Visenya and… Father, come at last. Tall and glorious in purple robes, and with crown of gold shining like light itself in the brightness of the sun, the king of torches.

Finally his vigil was at an end.

"Aegon Targaryen. Much and more can be said about him. I could say a good king, a good man, a good father. But would be to undersell who he was."

I stood by the tall and massive pyre, upon which the first king of Westeros had been laid to rest, Blackfyre upon his chest.

Below me stood quite a lot of people. Servants at the castle, lords from the narrow sea who had come to see their king off, and our family. His wife Visenya on her dragon, his grandsons and a couple of other men and women who were either "dragonseeds" or descended from grandfather invoking the right of the first night.

Of those, only Orys Baratheon had gone on to be remembered by history, but there was others.

And bove all of them i stood, to eulogize the conqueror.

"Aegon was a conqueror. In less than 5 years, Aegon united 3 races, 3 Religions and 6 Kingdoms. He did away with borders, and made this continent one. One nation, one kingdom, one king. From the wall to the mountains of Dorne, there was only one writ."

Well, there was the clans of the mountain of the moon, but i was gonna do something about that. Like, literarily, it was the first thing of note i was going to do once i had crushed the rebellions.

"He was a conqueror the likes of which this world has never seen. He was the dragon. The king on the Iron Throne of Westeros."

He had always preferred to be called Aegon the Dragon, but alas, that was not his call to make. He was the conqueror. That was how history would remember him.

"But he was not merely a conqueror. For Aegon was a great king. He hammered westeros into one with fire and blood, but when that work was done, he did not begin an endless conquest eastwards as some urged him."

"Instead, he gave his kingdom peace, prosperity, justice and order. His actual reign was one long golden age which all men will remember as one of peace for all."

Well, that and a whole mess of non existent infrastructure he had left it to his successor to clean up. No overarching law system, no roads, king landing was an unplanned mess and the dornish question was still there.

"He was a man who was open handled to those who served him well and who never took vengeance upon who bent the knee, no matter their previous opposition. He granted the Edmyn Tully the lord paramouncy of trident for being the first to rise for him. He gave Storms End and all it's lands to his brother, who never failed in his service to him as his strong right hand. He elevated the Tyrells to their height for bending the knee after the field of fire."

And he had done all of that. But that also hid another side of Aegon. As open handed as he was with lands, when it came to coin, he was ebenezer scrooge. If he could avoid it, he would not spend not spend coin on it.

That was probably one of the main reasons he had not invested his wealth into the crownlands. Hell he hadn't even built a true castle before being forced to admit the aegonfort wasn't working out, years after he should have scrapped and started anew.

It was also one of the reasons he loved the royal progress so damned much. Showing off the wealth and prestige of the royal house while not having to pay for it? Yes please.

Of course, i wasn't gonna complain. It meant i had a decent amount of cash to start with. It would not be enough on it's own, but it was a good start until i reformed the taxation system.

"Aegon was not a man who shirked his familial duties either. He was a man who stood by his family and did all he could help them rise in their fields. He was one stood by his family no matter what."

I motioned to Visenya.

"When many urged him to abandon his marriage to my aunt, and instead take a new younger wife, he refused to even consider it, standing by his wife as his marriage oaths said he would. Nor was he ever unfaithful towards either her, nor my mother."

"He was a man who took his duties seriously, whether they be his duties as king, as father, husband, or friend."

He was Aegon Targaryen. He was the Dragon. He was the conqueror."

"He was the blood of the dragon, but now his fire has gone out. He was Aegon Targaryen. And now his reign is ended."

I motioned to Visenya as i stepped down.

In response she and Vhagar stepped up to the pyre.

Then, FIRE.

The pyre of Aegon Targaryen was engulfed in green dancing flames. His oil covered body and the similarly treated wood beneath him, went up like a candle.

As we watched his corpse literarily turn to ashes as we looked on, all around me people had a variety of different faces. Some in grief, others mainly focusing on me, Aegon kept a stone jaw and no tears, while Viserys wept quietly, obviously trying to keep it in. The maester who looked so much like Stannis Baratheon, also wept.

Visenya, still mounted of Vhagar had a rather Melancholic look. How did she feel about Aegon's death? Was she sad, relieved, angry? I had no insight into how she felt about Aegon at the moment. They had been estranged for years, but was there still some love there despite it? I did not know.

It took maybe 5 minutes before the dragonflames had done their work and nothing was left but ashes. Well, it was time for one last piece theater before the funeral feast. And once that was done, it was time to get this continent into the new age. MY age.

I climbed back up to what remained on the pyre. Then, with gloved hand i stuck my hand into the ashes, and retrieved the blackened, still hot blade.

Blackfyre, the blade of kings, now black as history would remember it. It would need some cleaning to get away the ashes. I stuck it back into it's sheath and began walking down again as the silent sisters hastily walked up to the pyre to begin their work of gathering egon's ashes.

Once the Kings Funeral feast was over, arranged for a set of meetings. The first was with Queen… Princess… Lady, with LADY Visenya.

As Lord commander he was tasked with being one of the Kings two guards. As he stepped up the stairs, he cursed age. He had been lord commander since the Order was founded. With two exceptions, all his original brothers had left him for the beyond.

And now he old. Old and tired. He loved this life, but he was under no illusions it would last much longer now.

Still, he was a brother of the King's guard and he did as he was commanded.

The meeting was in the room of the Painted map. He had been here considerably more than once, but everytime he came here, he could not help but recall his first visit here with his father, back when Aegon had been young, and only a lord.

Now that young man was dead and burned and a new king was the ruler in this room. His son. A son nearing 30 years of age.

By Balerion he felt old.

Aenys had opted not to seat himself on the heightened throne, instead standing by the Vale. Visenya stood across the table, looking at him with the expression she oh so often had when looking at her nephew. Then as he began talking it changed to a more worried one.

"There will be 4 rebellions. Or rather 3 revolts and one foreign invasion."

"The first…" he pointed at the mountains of the moon.

"Will be here in the Vale. Jonos Arryn, cousin of Lord Ronnel plans to overthrow his cousin and declare himself king of Mountain and Vale. He is currently heading to the Eyrie as we speak. There he simply wants to "Visit" his cousin. After getting access, he plans to throw him and his family out the moondoor."

That was… One of the most insane and stupid plans he had ever heard. Lady Visenya agreed.

"Is he a simpleton? What exactly is there to stop one of us from flying up there on dragonback and burn the castle with him in it?"

"Absolutely nothing." The king agreed.

"It's easily the most foolish of the four revolts by a man who REALLY should know better. Not that the others have much chance at success, but Jonos was alive during the conquest. He should know that one cannot beat dragons with castles."

"The next revolt…" He walked down south a bit, into the bay of crabs.

"Will be in the Harrenhal area. I'm not sure exactly how they will go about it, but the rebel leader is one Harren the Red, a supposed grandson of Harren the black."

Visenya snorted. "Not bloody likely."

"I don't really care about his familial claims. I care far more about the fact that he plans to name himself king of the Rivers."

"The third revolt-" The king pointed towards where the iron Islands would have been if they had been included on the 55 foot long map, but here he was interrupted by Lady Visenya."

"How do you know about these rebellions Nephew? You seem to know all about where people will rise in revolt."

The king smiled one of those smiles that he always gave when he was trying to put someone at ease.

"It's called a spy network aunt. As for these revolts, despite how they look, none of them are sudden. All of these have been building for some time, all awaiting the day my father died."

"I KNOW Aegon's spy network Aenys. I helped make it before you were born. And none of these revolts you seem to know about has been even hinted at from that network."

She furrowed her brow, while looking at his Grace as if he was a riddle she desperately wanted to solve.

The king's expression did not change.

"The best kind of secret information aunt, comes from sources which no one knows the origin of."

Then he went silent.

A line had been drawn.

Visenya choose not to cross it however and instead went back to the rebellions.

"Fine. What's the other two rebellions?"

"The third is on the Iron Islands. A man claiming to be Lodos, the man who drowned himself along with thousands of his followers back during the conquest of the islands, plans to declare himself King of The Iron Islands."

"That's even more inane than claiming to be Harren's Grandson."

"Indeed"

He then began walking down south into the bay between Dorne and the Stormlands.

"The fourth rebel is the only one who is not from our nation. He is a Dornish bandit leader who calls himself the Vulture King. He intends invade the stormlands and the reach and steal my throne."

"He is also the biggest threat in that while his goal cannot possibly succeed he is capable of doing the most damage, given that well over 10000 dornishmen are flocking to his cause."

"So an actual army then."

"Yes. However…" The kings grin instantly changed from calm and jovial to one that could only be described as predatory. It was such a change that he was actually taken aback by it. Arnys should NOT look like that.

"I happen to know that their first real target will be the castle of Blackhaven. All their might will fall upon the castle in one massive attack."

"Imagine then, how they will feel when Vhagar suddenly jumps up from the courtyard, and turns turns every single one of them to ashes."

Visenya stared at him. So did he. And his brother Sir Humfrey.

"It would seem i was mistaken Aenys. You have some of the old man's fire in you after all."

The kings predatory smile faded to a more cold and hardened look.

"I'm king now aunt. And a king's duty before anything else, is to protect his people. I intend to deal with all these rebels. And i do not plan on leaving any of them alive to continue rebelling against me. In any case…" He motioned to the spot on the map where Nightsong Lay.

"Before i go north to deal with Areyn, i will be sending a letter to Lord Dondarrion. Once he has sent a reply to Dragonstone, you will begin the teip there. Make sure you only fly at night, and do not stop at any castles. I do not want any news of you coming to leak out."

once you've reached Blackhaven, stay there and do not let Vhagar fly. At least not until the attack comes."

"You've planned this out i see."

The king chuckled. "For quite a while aye."

After the Lady had left, it was his Nephew's turn. Daemon Valeryon was the classic Velaryon. Tall, silver hair and purple eyes a handsome face and a strong jawline.

"Aenys!" He greeted his good brother along with a prideful smile as he sat down by the table by the kings side.

The king replied similarly.

"It's good to see you Daemon. I am sorry i haven't been able to chat with you before now, it's been a very hectic day."

"It is no matter. Sooo… I was told you had need of me?"

"Aye. I have about half a dozen tasks i need done, and as my master of ships you are by far the most qualified to deal with them."

If he was worried about being handed Half a dozen different tasks he did not seem to mind.

"Alright. So where do we start?"

"By turning blackwater bay into a freshwater lake."

A moment complete silence followed.

"Alright… First question. Why? And the second, how?"

The king kept grinning that oh so jovial smile as he replied.

"Well as for the why, i have recently created a technique for creating raising farmlands from the sea."

He handed over several of the parchements he had prepared for the meeting.

"This is a basic diagram explaining the methods i use to raise farmlands, but it is not important at the moment. I just want you to understand the idea."

The king then went into silence as Daemon read it. He had seen the kings diagrams and pictures and it seemed to make some sense. Gods it would be a lot of work though.

"It's… An interesting idea Aenys, but…. You do realise the sheer time and manpower this would require?"

"Aye. However once each section of land is raised, it will pay for itself. The problem is the bay itself. This kind of land reclamation is rather vurnerable to to flooding and more to the point, it's much easier to do it if we don't need to get rid of tons of salt from the land we are raising."

Daemon nodded slowly.

"That explains why. But you still have not explained how exactly we are to do this."

For that the king simply pulled out another parchment. This time a map of blackwater bay with some added lines across the water.

"Simple. We will make a set of massive dike connecting Driftmark to the mainland both to the north and south. Then we will make pumps along the dike to pump out seawater. Inside the bay, new water will flow from the Blackwater and all other river flowing into it, and over time the freshwater will replace the saltwater for good."

More silence.

"Also if you're worried about sea trade, don't worry, at Driftmark we will make canals that allows ships to pass into the bay without polluting it with salt."

More silence before finally he replied.

"That...was not my worry, but… Im glad youve thought this through. I do hope however you have a plan for where i am to get the sheer manpower i need to get this done?"

"I do."

Daemon looked REALLY relieved at that.

"You are to travel to Essos and buy the freedom of some 5000 young men, then give them the offer to work as free paid labour in Westeros. I imagine most will jump at the opportunity. In any case, keep buying men free until you have enough. Then transport them north to near here."

He pointed at the map.

"Then out them to work. They will of course need bulls, carts, horses and shovels to do the work, but we can easily aquire those. The problem at the moment is manpower."

"Finally i need to stress, this part YOU will do. I will not risk any sailors running off with the coin i'm sending with you east."

He nodded.

"Makes sense. What more work do you have for me?"

"Secondly, in two years time we are going to war, and i need to know many war galleys and transport ships we have in the royal fleet."

"46 and 34." Daemon replied instantly.

"Do we need more?"

"No. That will do just fine."

"Speaking off the Navy though…."

He pulled out another set of parchements.

"I am introducing a dress code for the navy, every member of the navy will dress by rank from now on. In any case, i wanted your thoughts on these designs. Anything that would not work?"

He looked through the drawings the king had given him.

"No… These should work. I already have men who dress in this style, but it's hardly the common style. This is an Essossi style you realise?"

"Yes."

No more was said on that subject.

"Alright? What's next?"

He pulled out yet another set of parchments. This time with drawing of boats.

"I'm also creating a new form of ships. Powered by steam, created by burning coals, these ships will move by the propulsion of a form of screws under the waterline which will push the the boat forward utilizing the same principle as how oars propels ships.

He understood the words the king said. He did not have any idea what the king actually said.

Daemon obviously felt the same way.

"You… Could you explain that again?"

The king sighed.

"You know what a waterwheel is right?"

"Yeah thats… That's the thing the mainlanders use to grind flour right?"

"Indeed. The waterwheels uses the power of the water to propel certain machinery inside the mills. It uses the power of the water to it's own ends."

"These kinds of boats will essentially be doing the exact opposite. It will use machinery and another powersource, in this case, steam, to power itself. The machinery will then move in such a way that it will affect the water around it, and by extention the boat itself."

"In this case, a form screw which will create massive force behind the ship, which propel it forward."

Daemon began to look through the drawings carefully.

"I… Think i get what you mean."

Well he was glad someone did, because he sure did not.

"And you wish for me to begin building these?"

"No."

"It will still be years off before i have the machinery these boats need ready to go."

"What i need your shipwrights to do, is fix a problem for me."

"Near the screw itself, you might notice that there is a hole for the metal pole the screw is attached to."

"What i need your shipwrights to do, is figure out a way to make this hole waterproof while also allowing it to rotate around at high speeds. If we cannot solve that problem, then ship design is useless, and i will need to design a much more cumbersome vessel."

The Lord mulled it over before nodding.

"Alright, i shall set my shipwrights to work on this problem."

He hesitated for a moment before asking.

"Anything else?"

This time the king pulled out a pretty large letter.

"Aye, i need you to deliver this this to lord stokeworth back in Kings Landing. I dare not send it by raven in case it is killed or something. It's a list of things i need commissioned from the city blacksmiths. Halberds, maces, knives and so on.

After that, Daemon said his farewells and hastily left the room, obviously afraid the king was going to give him even more impossible work.

The king sighed.

"And now it's time for Lord Tarth."

Humfrey walked out to get him while he stayed behind with the king.

"Tell me Corlys. What do you think of the Dothraki?"

The… The Dothraki?

"The savages of the plains? What of them?"

The king suddenly seemed melancholic as if he wasn't sure how to proceed.

"The Dothraki have exterminated million upon millions of people, and to this day they slaughter their way across Essos. Pillaging and raping as they please."

And the point was….what exactly? That the barbarians were monsters without equal?

"Yes, that is well known. They are essentially the Wildlings of the east."

"Yes."

"Tell me my Lord Commander, do the Dothraki deserve to exist? Do they deserve life?"

That was quite the stupid question.

"No more so than the Wildlings your grace."

That answer did not appear to make the king happy.

"Yes…. No more so than the wildlings beyond the wall…"

Maegor, son of Aegon would be remembered in Western Essos as a bringer of death and destruction. Before that however, he was regarded as the greatest Hero the continent had seen since the fall of Valyria. from Myr to the bone mountains his name would be held high for a short time before Aenys Conquest. Even after, many still sung his praises, especially Ibben, Saath and the cities of the bone mountains. Later Still, he would become similarly praised further east, in Yi-Ti and Nefer. The name Maegor would become a popular name in Essos amongst many of the lower classes, especially those who lived outside cities.

Extract from "The Burning Seas by Karai Oda, Historian of the Lengi Empire.

Last edited: Mar 8, 2020

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Kingofwinter

Jan 28, 2020

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Kingofwinter

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Feb 1, 2020

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#69

Interlude 1

A joke, An avenger and A lunatic

Jonos Arryn, was nearing the end of his plans.

He prepared this for years. The men of the Vale had suffered too long under the tyrrany of Sisterfucking Dragonlords. His brother and mother had to the eternal shame of their house, bent the knee to Aegon, the blasphemer, who not only fucked his sisters, but had taken of them to wives.

And rather than resist him, the faith had bent over backwards and taken it in the ass. Clearly, the Vale had made the right decision when they had agreed to submit to the authority of the Starry Sept.

They had all been piss afraid of Aegon and the black Dread.

Now, however, the age Aegon was over. The Conqueror was dead and gone, and in his place, stood an Indecisive weak king, with a smaller, younger Dragon. If the Valemen were to regain their old freedom, and be free of the Dragonlords, they had to act now. The opportunity would never be better.

His little company of 50 men, was a colorful one. Some were his friends and companions, other like minded knights and younger noble sons and some of less moral character just hated that all their taxes went out of the Vale, rather than to the Eyrie as it should. Instead all the way to King's Landing to feed the Targaryens monstrosity of a city.

That would end today though.

His brother had already gotten work that they were planning through the mountains, and that they would make a stop by the Eyrie. And they would make a stop. And a declaration.

There would be no king in the nation, but the King of Mountain and Vale.

One day more, then they would reach their destiny.

Gargon Qoherys, Lord of Harrenhal, read the numbers of taxes, again and again. He had never had a head numbers and counting coin, hence why he always had employed a steward to do it for him.

Tom had dissapeared however, along with his wife and children. He wasn't quite sure where they had gone, but his guards had sworn they had not left through the gates, which meant they had to still be in Harrenhal.

No amount of searching had found them though.

So here he was trying to hammer these numbers out. He had been at it for days, trying to figure out how much exactly he had gotten from his lands this year, in preparation for the King's tax collectors.

He had put a lot of energy into it too. So much that he had chosen to just let some peasants get married without invoking his rights. It was shame, but he did not have the time to ride anywhere at the moment.

He was still doing that when one of his men at arms burst into his chamber. He scowled at this unannounced entrance.

"What?" He asked in a grouchy voice.

The man responded by punching him in the face.

A while later he was thrown down on the grounds of the Godswood, bound in tight ropes and still bleeding from his shattered nose.

Around was a ton of people, his men at arms, tom and his family, others of his servants. None of his knights though. Had they all been killed?

The man in charge was a tall man, with long and flowing red hair a rugged beard. He wore a surcoat with a symbol Gargen had only seen in history books. The intricate pattern of house Hoare.

The man stepped up to him and looked him over with a hard cold look.

"So, you are Gargen "the Guest" . You're as fat as the stories say "Guest"."

"Ann whe are yew supposd to be?" He asked, speaking through the bitter pain.

The man smiled. Not a cheerful smile, the kind that belonged on a man who was about to get sweet vengeance.

"I am Harren of House Hoare. Though the smallfolk calls me The Red."

So, he was full of shit then. Or maybe his father had been a bastard and he simply didn't care about being illegitimate.

"Soon, they will know me as Harren the Second, the first riverlander king in over a thousand years."

Gargen actually laughed. Through the pain he laughed, and he only stopped when one of the men at his side hit him in the gut.

"And as my first act as king, i shall pass judgement on a tyrant."

"Gargen Qoherys, you have forced yourself on thousands of women all across your domains, no matter what their status in life was, you would come to their wedding feasts, and in what should have been the happiest moment of their lives, you forced yourself on the brides, despoiling them, and leaving behind hundreds of bastards in your wake."

He motioned to Tom and his family as he continued.

"But your depravity doesn't end just with you invoking the barbaric practice of the First Night, as you've forced yourself on the family of your own servants, on their wives, their children, their mothers."

He paused for a second.

"Now tell me, "Lord" Gargen. Before i render judgement, do you have any pitiful defence you would like to raise in your own defence?"

"Aenyes well nod stend fur thes Bastred! Hell burn ya like hes father burned tha black."

"If i were foolish enough to stay in this castle mayhaps. Now then… for judgement."

"Gargen Qoherys, i sentence you to castration and to have your manhood feed to the dogs, as you bleed to death."

A man with a knife stepped forward.

The screams went on for a while. Then they stopped.

Lodos, the Twicedrowned stood at the rock, overseeing his faithful, those who had come to hear his holy word.

He had washed up on the shore some months ago, and though he had taken some time to recall, he knew now who he was. He was Lodos, son of the drowned god himself, finally come home after his long council with his father.

He did not recall much of that time, but he did recall the three headed dragon dying. That was the signal, the proof that a new age was dawning, and now, when the accursed dragon was dead, it was once again time to take up arms, and throw the hated followers of the false star back into the sea.

The drowned men would once again rule as they were meant to do, and the ironmen would raid as god had created them to do. From north to south and eastwards, their longships would once again be feared.

With their shackles broken, they would reave and rape as they were meant to do.

Now he only had to first rally his people and they would see Gods will done.

Last edited: Feb 1, 2020

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Overview of the State in 37 A.C

The King's Guard at the ascension of Aenys the first.

Lord Commander - Ser Corlys Velaryon

The First Lord Commander of the order. Uncle of Lord Daemon Velaryon of Driftmark. 15 years older than his nearest brother in age.

Described by Aenys as "A fine Steel blade, but beginning to break from rust."

Ser Humfrey, better known as Humfrey the Mummer

Began his career of knighthood in the hedges, where he also worked as a mummer. Described by Aenys as "The greatest warrior alive…. Other than my Brother anyway.".

Ser Addison Hill, the Bastard of Cornfield

A bastard of house Swyft.

Described by Aenys as "The Cleverest of my Knights."

Ser Rupert Crabb

A knight of house Crabb. Brother of ser Clarence Crabb.

Described by Aenys as "Amazing Soldier but not noteworthy in any other field."

Ser Clarence Crabb, better known as Clarence the "Short"

A knight of house Crabb. Brother of ser Rupert Crabb. Over 6 feet tall.

Described by Aenys as "The living embodiment of Ironic nicknames."

Ser Robert Flowers, better Known as Red Rupert Flowers

A knight from the Reach. Bastard Born, but Heritage disputed, as he claims descent from the Osgreys of Coldmoat, but this claim is rejected by the checky Lion. Won great fame in the Dornish war.

Described by Aenys as "At his best when Bathed in Blood."

Ser Raymont Baratheon

Son of Orys Baratheon. The newest member of the order.

Described by Aenys as "He should have a cat on his shield, the way he hears everything."

Council of Aenys Targaryen in the year 37 A.C

Hand of The King - Alyn Stokeworth, Lord of Stokeworth.

Grand Maester - Gaewen.

Master of Coin - Vacant. De facto held by hand of the king, Alyn Stokeworth.

Master of Ships - Daemon Valeryon, Lord of Driftmark.

Master of Laws - Arthur Royce, son of Allard Royce, Lord of Runestone.

Court Septon - Murmison

Leader of the city guard of King's Landing - Tom

Targaryen Family Tree in 37 A.C

This chart does not include Dragonseed Families decended from Aerion Targaryen, such as House Baratheon, Galetyon and Harrenton.

Finances of the Realm

Royal Treasury

4 012 342 Golden Dragons

602 213 Silver Moons

7 212 983 Silver Stags

16 097 231 Copper Stars

Uncounted number of lesser copper coins.

Population Centers of the Kingdom of Westeros

City Populations

King's Landing c. 83 000

Oldtown c. 170 000

Lannisport c. 100 000

Gulltown c. 50 000

White Harbor c. 30 000

Town Populations

Crownlands:

Duskendale c. 62 000

Driftmark c. 7 000

Rosby c. 13 000

Sweetport Sound c. 4 000

Rambton c. 1 000

The North:

Barrowton c. 4 000

Wintertown c. 5 000

Torrhen's Square c. 2 000

Overton c. 1 000

Stormlands:

Wrathtown c. 23 000

Fawnton c. 9 000

Riverlands:

Saltpans c. 9 000

Mummer's Ford c. 3 000

Nutton c. 2 000

Tumbler's Falls c. 3 000

Stony Sept c. 7 000

Fair market c. 16 000

God's Eye Town c. 3 000

Seagard c. 21 000

Mudgrave c. 3 000

Harrentown c. 7 000

Lord Harroway's Town c. 3 000

Maidenpool c. 7 000

Wendish Town c. 11 000

Iron Islands

Lord's Port c. 7 000

Iron Holt c. 3 000

Pebbleton c. 2 000

Westerlands

Kayce c. 12 000

Riverspring c. 9 000

Faircastle c. 11 000

The Reach

Ashford c. 12 000

Brandybottom c. 13 000

Cobble Corner c. 6 000

Cuy c. 16 000

Dunstonbury c. 27 000

Dosk c. 18 000

Lord Hewett's Town c. 18 000

Grassy Vale c. 13 000

Nunny c. 9 000

Vinetown c. 23 000

Starfish Harbor c. 22 000

Ryamsport c. 24 000

Tumbletown c. 29 000

The Vale

Sisterton c. 13 000

Wickenden c. 9 000

Ironoaks c. 12 000

Old Anchor c. 14 000

Runestone c. 9 000

Longbow Hall c. 6 000

Heart's Home c. 4 000

Snakewood c. 6 000

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Chapter 3 Hidden Things, Things of Value

Of the 4 rebellions that instantly hit my father at his ascension, Jonos "revolt" as it became known, was amongst the most ineffectual rebellions in Westerosi history. When Jonos and his small party reached the Gates of the Moon, they found waiting for them, 200 knights(37 from Ronnels personal service, one King's Guard and the rest landed knights who lived in the area), 700 levies from those who lived in the slopes beneath the Giant's Lance, and their king himself, mounted on Quicksilver, that most famed of Targaryen dragons.

It had been put down before it ever had the chance to begin, and thus, compared to the other 3, this revolt is rarely remembered except as the final fate of an obscure and childless member of House Arryn.

Needless to say, the party surrendered to the crown without a fight. The most surprising thing about the revolt, however, was the aftermath. Rather than sending the entire group to the wall, or have them hanged, Jonos Arryn alone was initially the only one sent north.

The rest of his noble companions was ransomed back to their families, literarily buying their lives for a royal pardon. Afterwards, they were allowed to live as free men, with the exception of The Eyrie and King's Landing, both of which they were forbidden to travel to under pain of death.

Thus, any hope they had of political careers were dead and gone. Some would go on to become knights of some renown, but most faded away into obscurity.

Not all was ransomed back, however. Some of the noble families were either unable to pay the ransom or flat out refused, and thus several of the traitors did join Lord Ronnel's brother on the wall.

The most famous end, however, was the incident between Lord Qarl Corbray and his brother Jon Corbray.

Like others, Qarl refused to pay the ransom. Unlike the rest, however, he had no wishes to see his treacherous and hated kin be spared and sent to the wall, and thus he would famously go the Eyrie, where he split his brother's skull open and cleaved him to the groin with Lady Forlorn.

This act would forever label him with the name Qarl the Kinslayer, but it impressed his king, who later appointed him as the first General Drillmaster of Westeros, responsible for the training of the first royal army.

Extract from "Dreams Made Manifest" by Alysanne Targaryen, First Master of the art of History.

Humfrey dismounted first, getting his feet on the ground and beginning to walk up to where Gargen had been strung up.

After dismounting, I quickly followed after. Quicksilver, mayhaps sensing that this place wasn't the safest, for once followed directly after me.

The massive dragon was hyper-alert, in stark contrast to her regular self. She really did not like this place.

And Erie it was.

Harrenhal was a testament to Westeros building capacity. Held up by what I could only assume was the unintentional sorcery of the blood sacrifice of all those who had died to build it, the fortress defied logic, even by all the impressive buildings of this world, Harrenhal stood out.

Usually, when something this large existed on planetos, there was some logical or obvious magical explanation.

The wall was magic, the Hightower was a mixture of a magical base, highly advanced internal structure, and good old masonry. Storms End was pure magic, the eyrie was impractical, but was relatively mundane as far as construction was concerned. Winterfell was just amazing construction and Casterly Rock was a hollowed-out mountain.

Harrenhal was different.

It was an insane construction.

90 meters tall walls, that was 20 meters thick. And to make it even more impressive, I also happen to know that to prevent anyone from simply tunneling and sapping them, the walls also went 30 more meters down below the ground. And the buildings. Dear god the buildings.

The taller towers were each taller than the big ben, and FAR wider. Each of them jutting up like some Westerosi version of Barad Dur.

Ugly, tall and twisted like the nightmares of the riverfolk, a blight upon the land, an eternal reminder of their occupiers, that just refused to go away.

Despite all of it, it was still just a regular styled castle though. Enormous in size, but there were no spectacular designs to make it stand out like Dragonstone had with its giant black dragons and countless other black grotesqueries.

Harrenhal simply looked like it was a castle constructed by and for giants. A castle that had also been left to be hammered by wear and age.

The towers, where stones had not fallen down, was still turned black from the dragon flame that had turned it to an oven half a century earlier.

It was the greatest castle ever raised by man.

And it was devoid of life of any kind.

No birds, no dogs, no cats, no rats, nothing I could hear or see motions of.

In this place, I knew with a certainty that evoked fear in me, for the first time since I came to Westeros. We were the only living things in this enormous courtyard. Here was nothing else living, than a king, a knight and a dragon.

Yet, I could also sense with a clear feeling that there was something else here. Something wrong. Something that hated, yet feared.

Humfrey, apparently not feeling any of it, cheerfully walked up to the man, and with one massive blow of his blade, he cleaved down the three spears Gargel was held up by.

With a thud, the naked man crashed backward on his back.

"Well, that's bloody Queer." Humfrey exclaimed after going up to the corpse to kneel so he could get a better look at the corpse.

"What is it?" I asked in a tone I really tried to make it sound like I wasn't nervous at all.

"He's not been eaten." He pointed to the eyes. "By neither bird nor maggots." He then pointed to the crotch.

"If carrion birds had gotten to enjoy him, he'd have lost his eyes. And just like the letter said, they killed him by gelding him. Yet there ain't any maggots in the wound. Bloody queer that is."

I bent down to get a better look as well. It really was a pain to look through a narrow visor. I resisted any and all instincts that suggested I pull up my visor for a better look though. I was not surrendering an inch of protection here.

Yes, a complete lack of maggots and the skin was milky white. Even his feet and hands followed that. Had they drained him completely for blood before stringing him up?

The way he looked so… Dead was just unsettling in its own right. The way carrion had just left him alone, mixed with the expression of a man who's life had slowly pumped out of him was more unsettling than it had any right to be.

It just looked way too clean for any real dead corpse. And it wasn't like they had actually cleaned him, the dried blood from his wound was still there. Yet there was a look to it like the thing hadn't rotted. At all.

"You supposed they lied about when they killed him? I mean, if they killed him almost a week ago, he should be way more… Rotting than this."

"No," I replied.

"This is Harrenahl. Weird shit happens here."

"Your Grace, I've been here dozens of times, seven hells, I had a puppeteering act here with a troop once. I've never seen anything like this before."

Oh right, this was the start of new houses coming to bad ends.

Well, just move and pretend I didn't know the general creepy future of this place.

"You did a puppet show here?" I asked, seizing upon the obvious distraction.

"Yeah." He turned his head and looked towards Harrenhal's main hall, the greatest in Westeros.

"It was just after Gargen's father became the first lord of Harrenhal. He held a massive tourney here, with melees, jousting shows, all the good old shit."

He sounded like every other old man I had ever heard in my life. Modern Amsterdam or medieval Westeros, it was the nature of age to wistfully look back at one's youth.

"And you did a puppet show there?"

He chuckled. "When I wasn't fighting in the melee aye. I earned a lot of coin that day. While I was busy fighting, somebody burned all my puppets though. Sad times."

"You couldn't just buy new ones?"

"Oh, no I could have bought all I lost twentyfold over with the coin I earned from the melee. But I took it as a sign it was time to get out of the puppet show business and take my knightly career seriously."

"So I traveled to the capital, bought some plate and joined your father's household as a common knight."

"Perfect timing that."

"Yes, it truly was. Would you believe I considered going west to Lannisport instead?"

"I'm rather glad you did not. We need more men of your skills Humfrey."

Well, that was true enough. I really did need more guys as good at killing my enemies as my king's guard was. And at the moment, I had none as terrifyingly skilled as Humfrey the mummer.

That more than anything was the reason he was here. I expected he would become a semi-permanent fixture of my saddle in the future. If so, I could do much worse.

"In any case, back to the matter at hand. I think we can safely assume Harren is not in Harrenhal."

I squinted westwards to the gatehouse. Then I turned east.

"And I think the bastard opened all the doors before they left. Clever dick."

"Your original plan won't work then your grace. What do we do then?"

I considered. My original plan was simple. Look which door they left through, then light the forest in that direction ablaze. If still wanted to use that tactic, I would need to burn all the forests around Harrenhal. Not practical, not to mention too long to fix.

I sighed. "We'll have to leave it to Tully. Have him call the banners and grant him leave to hunt him down. We do not have time to go on a massive and long drawn out hunt for a few hundred outlaws. Not with the islands in revolt."

I didn't really despise Harren the way I did the other Rebels. But he had declared and accepted imperium. That meant he had to die.

"So we'll stop at riverrun then after all?"

"Yes."

We'll now it was just putting Gargen to rest before we left.

"Did you know Gargen Humfrey?"

"No your Grace."

"From what I have heard he was quite the ass. Invoking the right of the first night, every single time there was a wedding in his lands."

"Wait. THAT'S how he became known as "the Guest"?"

"Aye. I don't think you'll find a less welcome guest anywhere in this land."

"Quite an understatement that."

"Aye. However, as repulsive as his actions were, they were not actually against the law. Quite on the contrary, they were well within them. That is something I shall need to rectify."

"Youll restrict the right of the first night?" The way he said it, casually like the right of the first night was just another regular thing in the world of feudalism, spoke more about how entrenched it was than anything else.

Well, I was going to have to break that entrenchment.

"Not at all, I intend to outlaw it completely."

Silence followed. From Humfrey and the world all around.

"That…. Is admirable, but… It will be hard I think. Lords care about the right of the First Night. A lot."

"They care about their lives more. As for difficulty, nothing in this world worth doing is easy."

"The Lords may bring their complaints. And if they rise? So much the better. Then I can make an example out of whoever rises."

Humfrey stared at me in silence.

"In any case, it's about time we move on. We have a long way ahead of us."

I motioned for quicksilver who in the blink of an eye turned Gargen Qoherys, the second lord of the short dynasty to ashes.

They were the first lords of Harrenhal, and the second dynasty to be wiped out here. I would very prefer that they be the last.

I had thought about it, and in the end, I settled on one Daeron, a dragonseed working under Lord Stokeworth, with a reputation for a good head on his shoulders.

Hopefully, he would do a better job of it.

Goren Greyjoy steered the great longship past the rocks and towards the beach.

The black beach.

He had been here before, many times, as it was one of the best landing spots on eastern great wyk.

It was a beautiful white beach, clean and without driftwood to clutter it. That also meant that other than as a landing spot, it wasn't used much.

He personally considered it one of the most beautiful spots in the land.

Now, it was black. Everything was black. The stones, the sand, the clumps of glass that littered the beach. And the corpses. So many corpses. Black and burned and cocked charred meat.

"By the storms..." One of his rowers exclaimed stunned.

There had to be thousands of dead here.

And as if to downplay the horror, by the side of the desecrated beach, was a small pavilion full of all the things the Greenlanders loved.

Well, he assumed so, he had only heard stories of such feasts.

There were distant singing and fire though, so it was something at least.

Above was a banner with many colors he couldn't really make out properly, but he recognized what was in the middle. Something that could only be the three-headed dragon of Aegon the conqueror.

Well, so he would get to greet the new dragon sooner than he would have liked it would seem. Not in a position of strength either.

That was a problem. He had planned to only travel to the capital after he had crushed The insane charlatan, and thus be in the position for a royal boon, but that seemed rather unlikely.

It became even more unlikely when a white shadow swooped over their ships.

"Greyjoy! You finally made it, come, take a seat."

The feast was both relatively large, though nowhere near large enough to accommodate his army, so he had sent them on ahead while he and his more important lords had gone to the feast.

Already seated was a bunch of septons, who kind of looked out of place there, mildly sipping of the wine though several had really dug into the meat. A weak and spineless lot those were. And their god as well. This was not the time to assert the drowned God's superiority though.

By the second leading seat, was Qarl Goodbrother, Lord of Great Wyk, obviously drunk in his cups with a huge stupid grin on his face.

The rest of the lords were all also drunk to varying degrees. This damned party had been going on for a while it would seem.

One man who was not drunk however was the king. Aenys looked far intimidating that Goren recalled him looking. He had once met him during a trip with his father to the capital.

He had been a gangly man, of impressive height, but with no width. Dressed in effeminate purple clothing, and far too many jewelry for any true man. A foppy beard and the dreamy look of a man with way too many thoughts in his head.

The man seated above him was nothing like that.

Clad in heavy plate armor, black like obsidian, with blood-red trimmings, he looked the way his father had always described the Hoares. On his head, a huge golden crown, engraved with dragon imagery.

He had grown the foppy beard into a more scraggly and worn look, which drastically changed the way he looked by just drawing away from the attention from his feminine cheeks and weak jawline.

But the most drastic change was his eyes. He had the same smile of old, but those eyes… Those were the dangerous kind. The kind that belonged to a man who would avenge himself on those who crossed him.

Aenys had changed it would seem.

And to add to that, up on a large boulder lay the dragon, outspread with her wings and looking down upon the feast. Her eyes were as cold as her master.

"Your grace." He gave a short bow of the head.

"Not to spoil your feast, but this is merely one half of the rebel force. The other half is in-" "Old Wyk, yes I am aware, lord Goodbrother informed me of as much." He motioned to the man, who raised his hand in a cheering motion, then fell forward over the table while snoring.

The king ignored him and continued.

"But we shall deal with that on the morrow when we sail to the old island with, fire and steel. Tonight we feast. Now come, sit and eat damn you."

He did indeed sit. As he seated himself on the kings other side, a servant bearing Goodbrother's colors immediately laid forth a couple of supple chicken legs before him, along with a tankard of ale.

"So… do forgive me for saying so your grace, but you seem to get here pretty fast. I sent the letter to the capital one day ago."

"That so? Well, I appreciate the effort, but I already knew about this little revolt before it began. Quite a lot of fools think that now that my father is gone, it is time to rebel against the crown, as if my father was king because he was Aegon as opposed to, you know..."

He pointed with his thumb behind him.

"Because he had dragons."

Aye, his father had hammered that logic into him from his boyhood. You could not beat dragons. Unless you had a desert, and he was up short on those.

"Quite the fools."

So, this wasn't the only revolt then? Interesting.

"So, who else has chosen to tangle with fire made flesh?"

"Well, the first was a lordling from the vale. He showed up at the gates of the moon with 50 men to launch a coup and declare independence."

"Quite a genius that one."

"Yes, it was really funny to see how his little group stuttered into submission when he saw the party I had prepared for him."

"Other than him, there is some dornish bandit lord with delusions of grandeur and Harren's bastard running around in the Riverlands. And just for originality, he is also called Harren.

So the son of a saltson then.

"I cannot see they doing much better than Lodos did."

"Well, to give Harren his due, he has so far managed to infiltrate the greatest castle in the world and chopped the balls of it's lord."

He almost choked on the ale, but he managed to stifle the laugh. So it seemed the Saltson was the real deal then. That was quite the hilarious tale. Still, the point remained. Dragons.

"Mayhaps so, but it won't continue."

"I certainly intend for that to be the case, aye."

Then the king's voice completely changed to lighthearted and jovial.

"In any case, I did not throw this welcoming party just to have a good time my Lord paramount of the Iron Islands. We also have some business to discuss."

The change was so sudden and drastic that Goren turned just to make sure that it was in fact still Aenys sitting there.

And it was. The imperious look was gone, replaced by a jovial and calm expression. The fuck?

"...What kind of business? You have more in mind than just crushing Lodos I'm guessing."

"Indeed." The king took a small sip of his ale before continued.

"Firstly, I need to tell you that we will be at war in 2-3 years' time, and there are preparations we need to make for that."

Ah, War. That was something he understood.

"So you want us to prepare swords and warships then?"

"No, I want you to begin building 2000 fishing boats, and begin to gather 1200 men who can be spared from the islands."

Okay, that was…. New.

"You want me to train and arm twelve-hundred men?"

That was not a small number of soldiers. The iron islands could gather around 8000 or so. 1200 was almost one-third of that number.

And then there were the fishing boats.

"No, I will take care of the training and arming. You simply need to provide the manpower."

Then he continued in the same cheerful tone.

"You see my lord, I am planning on embarking on a war that will likely last over a decade. And for obvious reasons a standard levy will not do for the purpose.

"I… See. So another war with Dorne then?"

"Fuck no. I have no plans of EVER setting foot in that quagmire thank you very much. The Dornish can fuck off. It's a hot, worthless, empty land that would need decades of work to turn its deserts into green fields. I have other, better projects to spend my time on."

He didn't see how you could possibly turn a desert into farmland, but whatever.

"Where will we go then? If not Dorne?"

"The stepstones."

Ah, yes, that old story. More than one ironborn King had tried to conquer them. They had all failed. Ignoring the damned pirates, the powers of essos always ganged up on anyone who tried to take the stepstones. But if the king wanted to throw away peasant lives, who was he to stop him?

And as a bonus, they would get to raid whoever choose to go to war with the king. Good times all around.

"So, you need 1200 men to conquer the stepstones? Alright, I can get that many together."

What a wonderful opportunity to get rid of unwanted dregs and saltsons. At least if he didn't have to waste money to arm them.

"Also, this goes without saying, but I only want men between 16 and 22. Their service contract will be of 16 years of military service, then they shall be awarded a farm and a plot of land."

"On the mainland?"

The king chuckled.

"As opposed to where? Here? The islands have the worst farmland there is. God knows I'll have to work hard to make this place bloom. But that is for another day. For now, I also need to note that in addition to 1200 soldiers, I'll also need 30 men to serve as officers."

"And 2000 fishing boats? I don't have enough wood for that. Or coin."

"I'm well aware. You will be compensated by it by the crown, and you'll be supplied wood for it at seagard. I have already made the arrangements with Lord Tully."

"I see. Will you require fishermen as well? That many boats are worthless without enough men to use them after all."

"I'll need some to teach away the art of fishing, but other than that I will produce the fishers myself."

"However, the conquest of the stepstones is far from the only thing I wish to talk to you about. For one, I am currently looking for a bride for my son Viserys. And as such I must inquire, is your daughter still unmarried?"

Everything in that moment stopped.

"Goren? You okay?"

He forced himself back to reality.

"No. She… Is not."

Shit, shit, shit.

"I see, well that is a pity."

Suddenly he had a burning, seething madness to sail back home and strangle his recent son in law.

"In that case, we can move on to other affairs. I have an office for you if you are interested.

They kept chatting for hours afterward, but nothing they chatted about came close to making up for a lost royal marriage.

Had he just told that Harlaw boy to piss off like his wife had told him to, he would have been in a prime position to make his grandson king.

Goren was pissed.

He was simmering pissed instead of burning pissed, but he supposed he should tread carefully. But then, that had never been his style.

"So Goren, how did the chat with the king go?" He asked cheerfully.

Goren sat down by the rock across from him and for a moment he didn't speak at all, then he took a deep breath and finally began talking.

"Not… Bad. Not bad at all."

"Then why are you so bloody tense? You look like you'd crush stones with your arse through pure rage."

The Kraken snapped.

"That's none of your fucking business Blacktyde."

He grinned.

"If you say so, my Lord. So what good stuff DID the dragon tell ya?"

"We'll be at war with some of the free cities in a few years."

"Truly? That's great! Which ones?"

"He ain't sure, but Braavos will be on the list at the very least."

Better and better.

Aegon had not tolerated their reaving the free cities. But if there was war… Well, that would mean ships that were usually off-limits would be free to plunder. And none were richer than Braavos.

"There's bad news as well though. That limited amount of longships Aegon forced on us? That's expanded.

"Please tell me that was a jest."

"No, Aenys is planning on replacing all previous ships with a new kind of vessel. Not just longships, galleys, galleons cogs. All will be replaced with a new design, one that's much faster and more reliable than anything before it."

"Truly?"

"Don't get your hopes up. It's an… Interesting design, but I'll believe the design works when I see it sail. In any case, we're operating under the old system until the king has finished this "Wunderboat".

"So we keep ignoring the ban entirely, and keep making more unaccounted for ships?"

"Yes."

It was a fine spring morning. One he really resented having to spend out hunting outlaws.

He had not liked Gargen Qoherys. None of the lords of the Riverlands had. He was a fool and unpleasant as sin, but he was one of Prenty's subjects. And by the warrior, he would avenge him.

Now he just had to find his killers.

He had gathered a host of a 1000 knights from all over the Riverlands. It should be more than enough to crush any force the arrogant upstart had. And what an arrogant upstart he was.

He claimed the title of king, which was arrogant enough. But he had the nerve to style himself as the logical successor to Benedict Justman, the greatest of the River Kings.

They had one thing in common. They were both bastards.

Benedict had started out as a natural son between the Brackens and Blackwoods and had the blood of two royal families in his veins. He had gathered to his side, knights and smallfolk alike to drive out foreign invaders and make the trident whole.

This swine was at best a bastard grandson of Harren the Black, the greatest tyrant the Riverlands had ever seen, a name that still lived on as the symbol darkest hour the Riverlands had ever seen.

Just as it seemed eternal subjugation under the Ironborn was at hand, Aegon had landed, and had liberated the entire kingdom.

And here this brat was, an ironborn reaver who had the gall to claim he was one of them while claiming to be the true successor to the house of Justman and calling Aenys, Aegon's trueborn son as a false pretender to the crown of rivers and hills.

Well. House Tully was not one to forget it's duty, and his was clear enough. Hang Harren "The Red from a gibbet and make sure everyone who followed him would dangle from the trees.

And he would. Once he managed to find the bastards.

The wall was tall, strong, sturdy and very well guarded. If one were to climb up the outer walls of Blackhaven, it would practically be impossible to get up without being seen even in the dead of night.

The inner walls of the castle itself, however…

She had climbed up in the middle of a moonless night and had not been spotted by any of the patrols.

If she had been forced to break open the window shutters, the chances of discovery would have jumped up immensely. Either through the sound of breaking through fast, or the drastically higher chance of being spotted if she did it slowly.

The art of burglary and entering into places unseen was all about weighing risks. There was never a guarantee that you would not be spotted. You could only weigh the risks and act accordingly.

In this case, however, she had had a great help. The occupant of the room she was visiting.

Queen Visenya wasn't there when she entered, but she had left the shudders unlocked as she promised.

Now she just to wait.

That was also a part of this job. Waiting.

The queen finally made her appearance after several boring, numbing hours.

The old warrior was dressed as she usually was. In plate and scale armor. Why the dragons didn't just dress in full plate she did not know. Nor ask.

After Visenya had closed the door securely behind her and closed the bar she finally spoke.

"Report."

"We have discovered the nature of Aenys ploy with Tarth. He intends to remove Maegor for the foreseeable future through a scheme to fight the Dothraki for coin given to the Iron Throne."

Visenya's face hardened.

"Clever. Maegor would be interested in such a scheme."

"There is more. We have also discovered that Aenys is very eager to gain recognition from the free cities for the crown's claim to the Stepstones. The deal is also about that."

"So, that's where the war will be then."

The queen sat down on the bed and put her hand under her chin in what she liked to think of as a royal thinking pose. The queen looked far more regal than her father had with that pose anyhow.

"We'll need to move up the timeline then. Maegor must marry his second wife now before Aenys can send him away. We need to begin destabilizing his reign early before it can truly solidify after these rebellions."

"As you say, mistress."

"As for you, you are to infiltrate the camp of the "Vulture King."

"Aenys has at least one informant there. Someone not inside Aegon's Spy network. Locate whoever this is if you can. Make yourself scarce before the host reaches here, then get relocate to Dragonstone to await further orders."

"Understood mistress."

It was a long annoying journey, after that, but she would not complain. The dragon paid richly for all her services.

Really, it was no different from the petty power struggles back in essos. The westerosi liked to pretend their inherited ancient Noble titles made them better than the east, but when you came down to it, it was the same smell everywhere. Blood, cloak, and daggers.

Those were what truly ruled the world.

Aenys was a meritocratic and opehanded king famed for his generosity. He granted many a lordly title in his years, and many of the houses we see today originates from his reign.

Yet, none rose nearly as far as the Crossbow commander Bronn Higharrow.

And to this day, none are sure as to why this man, out the hundreds of lowborn commanders Aenys had, rose so high. While an outstanding officer, Bronn was not remarked as moreso than others of his peers, nor is there any record that the king had a personal friendship with him, as they almost never spoke. At least not before he became Lord.

Yet it is a confirmed fact that upon being granted his lordly title, Bronn was also presented with a lordly sigil, the famous flaming arrow on grey, designed personally by the king himself, which says that he must have planned it in advance for some time.

Needless to say, he accepted the design without complaint.

Extract from "Unlikely Heroes" By Lena Fowl. Historian.

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[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Chapter 4 A Tub and 2 Dragons

We drink to our youth, for days come and gone

For the Age of Aggression is just about done

We'll drive out the Dothraki and restore what we own

With our blood and our steel we will take back our home

Extract from "Age of Agression" by Aenys Targaryen.

Alyn Stokeworth sat at the Iron Throne and dispensed justice.

It was the most boring, time-consuming and flat out dangerous part of being the hand of the king. The iron throne was amongst the most impractical seats the world had ever seen. When one satt it, you had literal sword blades pointed at one's back.

That meant either wearing mail all the time while sitting on it, or constantly being careful not to lean backward. Either way, neither was comfortable. Wearing mail all day was not fun, and getting poked in the back was an annoying prospect at the best of times, being so while trying to sit in judgment was amongst the most annoying things he had ever experienced.

At the moment, he was sitting in judgment on a man who had allegedly stolen a man's wife, having an affair and trying to run away together.

The punishment for that would be a week or two in the stocks for the woman, with a severe bout of public whipping and the stocks for the man as well as a hefty fine.

Problem was that no one could actually verify that the man lobbying this claim was actually married to the woman in question.

They were cousins that had moved to king's landing from Duskendale 3 months ago. So far so good. He had several of their neighbors as witnesses, having been acquainted with them over the 3 months.

Problem was that apparently none of them had ever mentioned this supposed marriage before the other man had entered into the tale.

There wasn't proof they were actually married, but there was nothing to say they weren't either.

And if they were not, the man was not legally the lady's guardian, and could not actually prevent her from leaving with her lover. If he had been her uncle, brother or father that would have been one thing, and the man would have been guilty of kidnapping. Easy, and clear and simple with no possibility of making a wrong verdict.

Here, he simply had to come down on whoever he thought was lying.

In this case, he decided on the man.

After that, it was a smuggler. He had him hanged.

A bar brawl that had gotten out of hand and ended with a tankard across someone's head, killing him.

The man who swung it got a death sentence while his friends who also participated in the brawl got 7 lashes.

A woman accused of having intercourse with her own 7-year-old son.

The silent sisters.

A farmer owning a peregrine falcon. Confiscating the bird, and 3 lashes.

A man who fled a brothel after killing a prostitute. Hanged.

7 thieves of various degrees. Punishment varied from hanging, to hand loss, to a beating depending on the age and objects stolen.

And on and on it went.

Finally, the last case of the day. A man punching a Septon in the face.

He'd have laughed, given the Septon was visiting a brothel when he was assaulted, but alas, the swords and stars made it clear that no laughter would be happening here.

Anyway, striking a holy man. Losing his hand.

After that, it was descending from the throne, ass sore and retire to the council chamber.

There he mercifully got to sit on a pillowed seat.

Then it was the matter of finances, Aenys demands, and his personal dealings.

"How many halberds do we have so far?"

"421." Tom, the leader of the city watch answered.

"As for the crossbows, the King asked for we have 47 so far."

Decent numbers. He wasn't sure how long it would take before the first men of the king's army arrived, but he would prefer to have as many weapons as possible before that.

"Speaking of those crossbows…"

Alyn turned to Arthur Royce, the master of Laws.

"I've had a lot of requests from Crownlander lords for them. Needless to say, most who visit the training yard have been suitably impressed by the kings Crossbow."

"The answer is still no Royce. Aenys has been damned clear that until he has as many as he needs, for the host, he's building, every new crossbow will go to the Kings host."

The valeman sighed.

"As you say my Lord, but I still say we could probably invest in more crossbow makers. We have the coin for it, and we would be able to earn quite the coin on selling them to all the land."

He would normally agree. But at the moment, he had something else he was investing coin and money into.

The king had been pretty clear in what he wanted out of the new projects, which so far, his men hadn't come close to achieving. Now was not the time to split one's focus.

"At a later date perhaps. For now, let's move on." He nodded at Tom.

"How are the men taking to the goedendags?"

"Pretty well. They're easy to carry around, they work well as clubs, and they're great for impaling someone when you need to."

He hesitated for a moment.

"Rather queer name though…"

"If you don't like the name, take it up with his grace. He created it."

Tom did not respond, and he was certain Aenys would hear no complaint from him on the matter. Common men did not question kings.

Truth be told though, it WAS a queer name. At least the name of the king's other inventions made sense.

They tended to be rather self-explanatory. Goedendag stood out like a rusty nail though.

Amongst the King's inventions, it was probably the most simple. It was for all intents, just a stick with a spike at the end. Yet it was a surprisingly effective weapon against unarmored enemies or those dressed in just mail.

Perfect for an organization like the city guard that usually used cudgels and spears to keep order. Now they had both in one.

He really wished the other inventions the king had sent the designs for had gone as flawlessly as the goedendag had.

But that was not information he was going to share with the council. Aenys had asked for secrecy, and he was one to deliver what his king demanded.

After that, they chatted about less important matters, for a while. By the time they were done, Alyn desperately wanted to go lie down.

Arthur and Tom had finally left, leaving him alone with Grand Maester Gaewen.

The maester had remained relatively quiet during the meeting, as was his norm.

Now it was time for the final business of the day.

"How goes the making of the Kings substances?"

The old man chuckled.

"Well, and not so well."

"The artificial stone has proven to be all the king said it would be. And as he said, the sand from Dragonstone makes all the difference."

Alyn nodded. "I'll admit, I've never had much faith in alchemy before. But this stone…. The potential is endless."

"Aye, that it is. Roads would not have been my first choice for it, but it is not our place to question the king's demands."

Roads. Damned, the king had insane plans for roads throughout the kingdom. From the wall to Oldtown, he wanted there to be roads. Grand sweeping roads.

He would have it was the most ambitious scheme imaginable, but quite frankly the dike was far more so.

Now he just had to find the coin to pay for all of it, at once. He would need to reach out to his contacts in the free cities. The king had said in his letter that he had plans for a grand reform of the tax system, but it was always better to be on the safe side. Also, he had given him a list of offices the king planned to add to the council. A lot of them.

Some he had asked Alyn to find men suitable for the job, while others he had people in mind.

Some he supported wholeheartedly, while others were baffling.

The master of coin would be split into two offices, the master of coin who dealt with internal coin and taxes and the master of commerce, who dealt with trade and tariffs.

Simple enough, it made some sense to delegate the office into more manageable, specialized jobs.

The baffling part was who he wanted to hold the seats.

The master of coin was to be Florence Fossoway, betrothed to the heir of Highgarden. Even ignoring the scandal of putting a woman on the king's own council, neither he nor anyone else he knew had ever heard anything of note about this lady Fossoway.

Hells, he had even dug into the royal spy network to try and learn anything about her.

Other than her being engaged to Martyn Tyrell, the young woman was a complete mystery.

The man Aenys wanted as master of commerce was definitely not a mystery, though in many ways he was even an even more bizarre choice.

Rego Draz was an up and coming pentoshi spice monger and by all accounts one of the richest men in Pentos.

He was also a gutter born bastard from the slums of the city, hated by all the city's leadership, and worshipper of a queer eastern god.

They were insane choices and he would have to talk some sense into Aenys about them.

Less insane, though still somewhat scandalous was Goren Greyjoy, who would become the Grand Admiral of Trade.

It was one of the three offices for naval affairs. The master of ships would retain the title as supreme head of naval affairs as long as Daemon Velaryon held the office, then it would be changed into the title, Grand Admiral of the Royal Navy who was in charge of the Kingdom's warships.

The third was the Grand Admiral of Transport, though he wasn't entirely sure what that entailed exactly.

Getting back to the matter at hand he continued the conversation with the second big topic at hand.

"And the king's black powder?"

The maester made a face like he had tasted lemons.

"Not… So well. Oh, the recipe works, but it's also proven way more powerful than the king anticipated."

"Is… is that a bad thing? I was the impression this thing is to be used in mines. Surely it being more powerful could only be a good thing?"

"Well yes, for the purposes the king intends, it's just fine. But the maesters I've consorted have suggested other uses for it. But alas, the powder is too strong for those. We'd need much stronger metal than we currently have."

Well... They might be getting that, but he did not voice that thought.

"So how much can we produce in half a year's time?"

"With the current crew I have? Mayhaps 240 barrels or so."

Not enough. They would need much more. That would mean he would need to hire more men to make it. Great, more men he would need to pay. Just what he needed.

In my letter from Great Wyk, I had made sure to alert White Harbour that their king was making a visit after having crushed a large scale revolt amongst the Ironborn.

I hadn't ASKED for a parade or celebration, but my language hadn't exactly discouraged it either.

The only thing welcoming us at the moment was rain. Rain, rain and more goddamned rain. Not the harshest of winds mind you, just enough to add a biting cold to a torrent of cold sloppy rain.

So as we finally saw the sight of White Harbour far below us, any thoughts of splendid welcome were drowned out by a fervent bitter desire of getting a roof under my head and changing to something that was not wet like cloth thrown in the pool.

The last time I had felt this cold and miserable was when I had fallen into one of Amsterdam's canals a cold autumn day.

White Harbour was probably the best planned and constructed city in Westeros, but at the moment I couldn't have cared less if it was a 100 times worse than King's Landing. It had buildings with roofs, and that was all that mattered to me.

As i we changed to freefall, i felt Humfrey's arms clench tightly around my waist. The man never had been fond of this part. He generally didn't like flying in general, to be honest.

Before we slammed into the ground and was pulverized by gravity, Quicksilver unfurled her massive wings to the sides, and like a parachute being used the momentum began to suddenly halt.

We still slammed into the courtyard with that oh so familiar crack though.

The reception was pretty scarce. Just a couple of unfortunate guards whose faces I could not see in the rain.

One of them shouted something, as we descended from the saddle.

I didn't hear what he shouted in the damned torrent, but thankfully the man ran up to us to talk.

Humfrey instantly put himself between us, as a good bodyguard should. The man still shouted started to become coherent, and I finally realized he was asking us to help him stable quicksilver as he pointed towards a piece of shelter obviously hastily constructed.

Yeah, he was a true Northman alright. No bullshit about formality in this weather. I hastily walked up to the shelter with quicksilver following.

Once under a roof, the dragon lazily entered and lied down. Unlike me and Humfrey, she had not been much bothered by the cold. Lucky fire breathing lizard.

"Your Grace." the Northman said while bowing his head.

"Welcome to White Harbour."

The warmth of the bath enveloped every bone and sinew in my body.

Ah…. This was the good shit.

No fancy perfumes, no bullshit servants to annoy me, a very competent(and dry) guard at my door and no one in the world to disturb me.

Just me, the wood and the water.

After finally entering New Castle, I had been welcomed by a rather shocked to see me Brandon Manderly, Heir of White Harbour. Apparently, they had not expected me for at least another week and hadn't prepared for their king's arrival.

I guess it wasn't their fault. Most monarchs would have stayed to celebrate their victory for half a week at least after crushing a revolt. Not me though. I had shit to do and the day I had crushed Lodos and mounted his head outside the main sept on the iron islands, I had taken flight north.

Ok, so I had done other things too before I took flight northward.

For one I had told my septons that I was making a device to speed up the production of Books, and once it was done I would be sending many, MANY copies of the seven-pointed star to help them in their work.

Killing the drowned god worship had two steps. First, give a much more profitable alternative to raiding.

The second was to convert all the ironborn to another religion. Meaning the faith of the seven given the lack of proselytizing with the old gods.

Still, it would be a while before I got bookmaking up and going.

Printing presses were amongst the easiest of my machinery to make. The concept was so simple that I could convert a random winepress.

Paper…. Not so much. I didn't know how to make paper. Meaning that unless I managed to find another way to get it, the printing press was useless.

Thankfully, someone else did know how to make paper. Problem was that they were nearly as far away from me as Asshai was. Yi Ti was pretty advanced in many ways from what stuff flowed west to Westeros, but one thing most ignored in favor of things such as incredible art and tapestries was their paper.

The paper the empire used was better quality than the parchments of the west, but more importantly, it was paper, and thus made from trees, and could thusly be mass-produced.

I would need to send a trade fleet east to secure knowledge of how to make it. The moment I got a steamship model up and running(whether paddle or propeller model) I would begin work for a massive trade expedition.

Hopefully, Yi Ti would be more accommodating to trade than the ming had been. And if they were not… Well, there was always the Justinian way.

I would have paper mills one way or another.

Still, that was for another day. Lots of shit was for another day I had found.

I had enjoyed the bath my hosts had so thoughtfully provided me, for maybe 10 minutes when I was interrupted by something I had made pretty clear I did not want to hear.

Knocking on the door.

I opened my eyes to glare at the offending piece of wood.

Then I saw I had failed to actually lock the damned thing. I had been so damned hasty in getting my ass into a warm bath I had incredulously forgotten to lock the damned door.

Great. Any attempt to get dressed would risk me being caught naked.

Another set of knocks. "Your grace?" Humfrey's voice.

I growled.

For a moment I considered just telling whoever it was to go fuck off, but it was probably Manderly, who had finally gotten his ass back from wherever he had been(most likely visiting a brothel from his Son's reaction when asked about it.

I had to try and not be a complete ass.

"Who is it?"

"Your Brother." Replied a loud, cold, hard voice.

Then the door went open, and Maegor Targaryen strode into the room.

Instinctually I almost went to cover myself up, but I held my pose, of leaning back on the tub's edge, my arms spread out along the edge.

It was an attempt to play this whole thing cool. Pretend I wasn't bothered by my brother barging in while I was naked.

Maegor was dressed in full Northern dress, fur and leather dyed black and with the Red Three-headed dragon on his surcoat. Amazingly, he wasn't armed.

Humfrey was and had Blackfyre drawn in his hand as he followed behind him with a very worried expression.

If Maegor was bothered by having an armed man with a Valyrian steel blade at his back he was not showing it. Instead, he just glared at me with his usual look.

"Aenys." He greeted me with a short quick nod.

"Maegor, what an unexpected sight. I had not thought to find you here."

The tall behemoth scowled.

"The hell do you mean I'm unexpected? YOUR damned order kept me from taking a ship south."

Oh right, I had casually written that if Maegor was still in the city he was to remain there until I came North.

"Truth be told brother, I did not expect you to still be in the north by the time I sent the letter from Stonehedge."

I waved to Humfrey.

"Leave us, sir. I shall need to speak to my brother. Under four eyes."

Humfrey hesitated. It was an order he clearly did NOT want to follow, but finally, after maybe 10 seconds he did withdraw to the door and closed it behind him.

"So… How's the North been treating you brother?"

"It's cold, damp and travel takes inane amounts of time to do."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Now. What the hell do you want brother?"

Storms he was tall. It was easy to forget since Aenys had always been nearly as tall, but when I was seated, just how large he was was obvious.

He was like a living, moving Tower.

"The destruction of the Dothraki."

For mayhaps the first time in Aeny's life, he achieved the feat of making Maegor look completely derpy with that confused look on his face.

"What?"

"The destruction of the Dothraki, brother. The horse lords beyond the sea."

Silence.

"Explain."

Ah, back to the coldness.

"Well, brother, you see, I have this problem with the fact that I am in need of coin to finance my many, many plans for this continent. And as I am a practical man, I thought I might as well do some good while earning that cash."

"And the Horse lords factor into this how exactly?

"Well you see brother, I realized that the free cities have a lot of coin and that they would be the best source of money in the immediate future. Sooo… I sent Lord Tarth across the sea to give each the free cities an offer. In exchange for each of them forking over 2 million gold coins or so, along with some other deals, the Kingdom of Westeros will rid them of a longstanding and massive problem forever."

"You want to wipe out the horse lords? All of them? "

The coldness in his voice was gone, replaced by…. Eagerness? Longing?

"Every single one."

"You mean to use dragons to do this."

"I mean to use Balerion the Black Dread. That's where you come in. Once you go to Dragonstone, you will master the Black Dread. Then spend some time mastering him for war brother. For when Tarth returns to dragonstone, you will go east. And you will turn the Dothraki sea to ashes."

A smile did not come to Maegor's lips, but he did threaten to smile. It was disturbing.

"I shall do this thing Brother."

Then he turned to leave.

"There is another matter I need to discuss brother."

He turned back.

"What?"

"Your Wife's Barrenness."

Wow, it did not take long for his regular look of eternal scowling to return.

"What about her?" He replied in a tone that promised pain if I did not drop it.

"Well brother, I find it rather unlikely that you will produce the heir you want if you keep planting your seed in ground where it will not grow. Luckily, as king, I have the right of legitimization. If you were to say… Go find yourself as much female companionship as you'd like, I'm sure you will find one sooner or later with fertile ground."

"What, you want me to make a harem?"

"Pretty much. I'll legitimize any child of yours you want Brother. One or a hundred, I don't care, just make some."

He stared at me.

"When the hell did you become tolerable?"

I chuckled.

"When I put on a crown brother."

Maegor left after that, and when the door closed behind him, I let out a huge sigh and slid down further into the tub.

Then I climbed up and went to actually lock the door before returning to the bath.

I had felt like I committed to this part when I sent Tarth across the sea.

But actually telling Maegor about it made it truly sink in. I was planning on committing complete genocide. Admittingly it was upon the Dothraki, a culture and people without a single redeeming quality, one that had committed genocide on a scale far larger than the one I was planning on committing to them, and a people with a religious manifest destiny that demanded that they eradicate farmers completely and conquer all the world.

They were as evil as any nation could possibly be while still being made up of free men.

And I didn't feel a damn thing about ordering all of them to death.

It was a disturbing notion.

I had known from the start when I made my plans of getting maegor out of the picture for the start of my reign that this would be the way I would take, and that Essos would be far better of without the Dothraki.

Every single other people in essos would regard this as an unambiguously good thing. No one would mourn the Dothraki.

Yet I had expected to feel really, really bad about it. Yet I did not.

I felt more sadness for having to kill my iron rebel subjects than I felt about sending Maegor to butcher the Dothraki wholesale. Aenys was not a bad person, but he was a man of his time, and frankly, he did not have a shred of sympathy for the Dothraki.

Hell, Aenys had more sympathy for the Dornish who killed his mother than he had for Barbarians such as the Dothraki or the wildlings. At least the Dornish was fellow human beings, no matter how treacherously he regarded them

He did not even consider the barbarian races as fellow human beings. No one in Westeros did. No more than they considered wildlings human beings worthy of life.

I knew that genocide was wrong. Yet I just didn't care. At all. God that was disturbing. At least with the Wildling of the mountains of the moon, I had plans for an alternative to genocide, but looking inside myself I had to confront the truth. If that plan failed wholeheartedly, I would not feel any regret doing to them what Maegor was going to to do to the Dothraki.

I needed a drink.

Amongst many arts of which my father mastered, his mastery of music was yet another way he put his mark on Westeros and to a lesser degree, Essos.

He grew up with a rather noted talent for the art of the song, though he did not pursue the art as vigorously after becoming king as he did in his youth.

Instead, as King, Aenys was more for writing songs than performing them.

The first was his famous tribute to the Starks of Winterfell, and the regional anthem of The North "When Winter Comes".

After this piece, he would go on to make many more, including the regional anthems of each province of Westeros(Except Dorne.), the national anthem of the Kingdom as a whole, several army marching songs, naval songs, and many smaller songs.

In Westeros, the songs "Over the Hills and far Away", and "Hearts of Oak" are generally the most famous of his non-anthem works.

In essos however, his most famous work was "Age of Aggression." A song so popular amongst the Saathi, that when they finally declared their kingdom of old reborn, they adopted a modified version as their national song, as became popular for nations to have during this time period.

Extract from "Dreams Made Manifest" by Alysanne Targaryen, First Master of the art of History.

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[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Feb 21, 2020

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#133

Chapter 5 Black Army Rising

Down to the southern seas, the dragon army sailed.

10 000 killers made, to turn the islands bloody stale.

3 Dragon overhead, turning pitch night into day.

1 Crown to rule them all, and burn it all away.

Extract from "Burning Stepstones", Author unknown.

The Vale.

Bronn had generally thought he loved and knew the Vale. Now, as he marched alongside men from all over the old kingdom, he'd been forced to realize he knew it not at all.

He'd barely seen anything of the vale in his life, having never went more than a few hours walk from his home village.

He'd grown up as a farmhand at a larger farm under old Tom. He'd been born on the farm, as had his entire family. His parents had been born on it, and they had both died on it. Not him. He was destined for greater things.

Peace had reigned in the Vale for longer than he had been alive. Ever since the war down in the south had ended, the banners had not been called, and so the only glory the village ever heard off was old men who would tell of how things were before the Dragon Kings came.

Fewer and fewer of those each year.

Now though, things were changing. The new King had given out the call that it was time for a new war, for a new chance and riches, with even a promise of one's own farm at the end.

He'd signed up the day the knight came to ask for volunteers.

His brothers had both stayed at the farm when the lord came to ask for volunteers. Jon had a wife now, so it was understandable he didn't want to go, but Andar had also chosen to stay. That craven had boasted for years how he longed for war. Yet when the moment came he balked out of fear, leaving Bronn to go alone.

Well, not alone. Just without anyone he knew. From his village, several others had wanted to go, but all were the oldest sons of Farm owners, which apparently weren't taken on for the campaign.

He'd asked why not, and Ser Roybar had told him he didn't know, nor bloody cared.

Not the most gallant man that one.

Alongside him now was a pretty massive group of some 80 men. All young and in the prime of their lives. No old men or boys, for which Bronn was very grateful. No old idiots to boss him around for being younger, and no brats running around being a nuisance.

He'd made some friends on the march, but for the most part, it had been silence on an endless march for a week now.

Apparently, they were heading to someplace called Gulltown.

He'd heard of it before from older men in the village, but he didn't really get the way people talked about it.

It was basically just a bigger village, right?

How wrong he had been.

Gulltown was the most amazing thing he had seen in his entire life.

Walls two times taller than the keep of the knight who ruled his hometown and many, many, many times its length.

Outside the walls were more buildings than existed in all his home village of Stoneshield.

"See? I told you it'd be a sight." Cheerful Donny gloated.

The short man was the only one who had been to the city before and had Unsurprisingly not shut up about it on their travels. He was also the only one amongst them who had started out with a horse. One that he had cheerfully sold to Ser Roybars squire for an enormous sum.

He'd then lost half of that on gambling by the fire with the rest of the men.

Donny did not seem to mind that. He didn't seem to mind anything, to be honest. One would think that he'd have been humiliated given that the only reason they had cards to play with was that Donny himself had provided a set. Yet he was as cheerful as ever.

"When you told us it had large walls, you didn't mention they were 30 feet tall? The other Bronn complained loudly.

"Actually they're only 27 feet tall." Donny replied cheerfully.

The other Bronn rolled his eyes.

"Those 3 feet makes all the difference I bet."

It was kinda weird to think of the man as "the other Bronn", especially when he actually had a second name.

To differentiate them, the Knight had given them the surnames of their home villages. So he was Bronn Van-Stonshield, while the other Bronn was Bronn Van-Poppymark. One of them had gotten the better deal from that.

He wasn't sure where the Van had come from, but the ser had told them it was to differentiate them from Noblemen and Knights.

As his friends continued chatting he simply marveled at the sheer size of it, and how little of the world he had actually seen.

He hadn't been this overwhelmed since he saw the sea for the first time.

Finally, the knight put an end to it.

"Alright, enough gawking, we're heading into the city and to the ship. You men can do your chats on the boat."

As they walked through the city, he was once again overwhelmed by it all.

The first thing that struck him was the people. The sheer number of people here was incredible.

"And this city is considered small?" He asked Donny incredulously.

"Oh yes. The smallest of the cities in Westeros. It's More populated than White Harbour up in the North, but it's actually quite a bit smaller.

'How many lives here and there then?"

"Oh, about 50 000 here and 30 000 up there.

He just stared at him.

Donny laughed. "Just wait until you see King's Landing. It's got almost a hundred thousand people in it, and it way bigger than either.

A hundred thousand. Gods Stoneshield was small.

Beyond the sheer number of people, there was, there was also the way they dressed. He had always thought Tom was as finely dressed as the smallfolk could be, with his furs.

Walking down the roads of the city he saw aa dozen traders dressed just as well, if not even more so. And then there were those dressed even finer than that. Many went about in a beautiful colorful material he had never seen in his life.

"What is that?" He asked Donny while pointing. "That isn't cloth is it?"

"No, that it is most certainly not. That my friend is Silk."

It was beautiful.

Before he could stop himself he asked "How does one get that?".

Donny simply smiled.

"We don't. That's for the truly Rich Bronn. Not common soldiers like us."

He pointed at a man wearing a fine, fancy silk shirt in a dark color Bronn had never seen before.

"That shirt there alone is worth more than the entire last village we passed. This isn't the sort of wealth you and I are ever going to see my friend."

He didn't reply and just kept watching the folk as they passed by.

Along with all the fine clothing, there was jewelry, men in full plated steel, knights, food stalls, incredibly alluring smells from said stalls and countless shops with signs Bronn could not read. Many had pictures that gave some idea what they sold, but many more did not.

Many of the city folk stared at the marching men, but many just ignored them entirely.

The knights generally gave them a short cool glance then went on their way.

Many of them actually looked like the knights from the stories too. Ser Roybar was not the first knight Bronn had ever seen, but unlike the knightly house who ruled Stoneshield, he actually did look like a warrior. Though not a gallant one by any stretch.

Dressed in mail and an old tunic, with a mace in his belt that had to have been decades old, his equipment wasn't much better to look at than his eternally dour and scarred face.

These knights though… Well, there were a couple who looked like Roybar, but for the most part, they actually looked like knights. Shining steel plate, surcoats that were not old and worn and mounted on gallant and powerful steeds as opposed to Roybar's old horse.

It was a powerful contrast. Well, it made sense. Not all the farmers around Stoneshield were nearly as capable and thus wealthy as the rest. It made sense not all knights were as capable as those who served the high lords and the king.

Old ser Steven who ruled his hometown was proof enough of that.

Finally, they came to the harbor.

Bronn had seen ships before during the march. But the difference between what Donny called fishing Vessels and these… Floating buildings were immense.

Roybar lead the way and eventually, he trotted up to a massive ship flying a banner with a three-headed firebreathing dragon. He'd heard of the banner of House Targaryen of course. The King's house. The royal family of Dragonlords that had united seven kingdoms beneath their banner.

The flag was an impressive one and in his mind, it stood out compared to the rest of the flags in the harbor.

Then Roybar talked shortly with a man by a piece of wood connecting where they stood to the ship. He handed him a sack as well, one Bronn had seen him carry all the way through their journey.

Then he turned to them and yelled with a surprisingly strong voice.

"Alright, so this is where we part. You'll enter this ship to King's Landing, where you'll begin your drilling and service to the king in full. Good luck. And try not to die."

Then he simply began to trot away, quickly followed by his squire as well as the rest of the small company of knights who had been escorting them.

For a moment everyone just stared after him. It wasn't before the man Roybar had been talking to barked for them to get onboard that everyone started moving again.

It took a few hours before they finally set sail, and he was shuffled beneath deck along with the rest.

Beneath the deck, they began to chat. They'd done that all through the journey, but this time they weren't allowed to form separate groups. Instead, they were way too confined.

"Donny, how long is the sailing time to King's Landing?" He finally asked after mayhaps an hour of listening to tales and stories.

"One to two weeks depending on how the wind is."

One to two weeks of this. Great.

Not quite how he had planned his journey as a soldier, but nothing to do about it now.

He'd made his choice back home. Back home…

After what felt like countless hours, the sound of the rocketing of the waves, and what meager light they got disappearing completely, the sound of snoring filled the room.

Finally, he too began to feel sleep claim him.

The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was Donny leaning up against the wall, a smile on his lips.

Alyn took a look at the men he had gathered as the drillmasters of the Kings host.

Generally, they were a mix between eastern mercenaries and Master-at-Arms from across the Crownlands.

Men who presumably knew their stuff.

It wasn't that the king's orders regarding where he would gather from had been ill-thought-out, but as he learned, not everyone had the same ideas in how to train men.

In particular, the fact that the army would be using halberds as their main weapons, with war maces as the secondary weapon was a huge problem.

As it turned out, most of these men had some form of specialization. The westerosi were generally used to training for sword and shield along with mounted combat. Few were experts on halberds or spear walls in general. That was the expertise of dornishmen, of whom he had 3.

The Essosi were far more varied, but generally, not many of them were heavily invested in the spear either. Or if they were, it was always the spear and shield combination of which this host would not use. The tactics the king was planning were new and as he had realized, he would need to drill his drillmasters as well in the new form of war.

Great.

At least the secondary melee unit training had better foundations. The pikesword(Or zweihander as the king called it) was essentially just a large two-handed sword. None of the kingdoms in Westeros lacked men who specialized in heavy two-handed weaponry.

The crownlands was no exception as pretty all the men from crackeclaw point knew the art of two-handed swords inside and out.

The tactics the king planned to use these swords for was somewhat new, but the actual art of just murdering a man with a large sword was not.

And finally, the one element of the drillmasters who knew everything they needed to know was the Myrish mercenaries.

Everything the king wanted with his crossbowmen, these men knew. Attack, movement, retreat, large shield, the stiletto side weapon.

They had also adapted extremely quickly to the king's goat foot lever.

So that was one group he did not need to instruct.

At least the king's training program gave him a lot of extra time to train the drill masters. For the first few months, the soldiers would work on stances, as well as just building themselves up physically and mentally.

And what a training regiment the king had put up for these men.

Truly he did not envy those poor bastards.

Hours of running, heavy training for the back, legs, and arms, and once a week they would march for miles, to set up a camp no matter the weather.

It was a brutal training regiment. One that he would never have gotten away with for knights. But these were common folk, whose job in life was to serve the king. And if he wanted to experiment how far the human body could be pushed, then their duty was to be pushed to the limit of human endurance.

His job was to make sure that the men pushing were up to the job.

O'er the hills and through the Vale

Through Western hills, Storms and Reacher plains.

The King commands and we obey

Over the hills and far away.

Extract from "Over the hills and far away" by Aenys Targaryen

Last edited: Feb 22, 2020

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#148

The finalized ranks of the Nobility of Westeros following Aenys's reforms are, from bottom to the top;

Baron, replacing the old titles of landed knight and Master titles. Also the title for clan leaders, no matter the origin. Female form, Baroness

Viscount, the title given to rulers of a City. Generally connected to a Count title, but not always. Female form, Viscountess

Count, the replacement for the lowest rank of the title of Lord. The ruler of a County District. Female form Countess

Duke, replacement title for the higher ranks of the old Lord title. The ruler of a Duchy District. Female form Duchess

Archduke, a Duke whose titles include more than one duchy. In the days of Aenys, there were 5 in Westeros. Manderly, Osgrey, Hightower, Peake, and Coldwater. Female form Archduchess.

Grand Duke, the replacement for the highest of Lordly Titles, the Lord Paramount. Technically, the old title of lord paramount was never abolished, and several houses kept styling themselves as lord paramount in addition to their titles of Grand Dukes. However, in legal documents and the popular consciousness, Aegon's old title of Lord Paramount was almost never used. Female form Grand Duchess.

Wardens, unchanged, but official reclassification as a title only active in war times. Gender-neutral title.

King, the monarch of the kingdom, owner of all land and the supreme head of the state of Westeros. From him, flows all justice and governing. Female form, Queen.

Landed prince, not above grand Dukes, but not below them either, all being direct vassals of the king. For example, the Prince of Firefield has his seat at the eastern edge of the Westerlands, yet is directly sworn to the crown. Note that the landed part of the title is merely an informative legal term to differentiate them from other princes, as it is never actually used to refer to them in a conversation. For example, the Prince of Dragonstone rather than the landed Prince of Dragonstone. Female form, Landed Princess.

Royal Governor, an appointed title which is not passed down to one's children, but nonetheless is in charge of a province. The most notable Royal Governor is, of course, the Royal Governor of the Stepstones. Though it was not intended for this to be the case, the title of Grand Duke of Sothoryos, eventually became a Royal Governor due to the fact that no Lordly Family lasted long enough in the position to form a continuous dynasty. Female form, Royal Governess.

Extract from "Fire and Blood - Aenys I"

An overview of the Duchies of Mainland Westeros

Provincial Map - The Crownlands

The Royal Province of The Crownlands

Provincial Map - The

The Grand Duchy of The North

Provincial Map - The

The Grand Duchy of The Reach

Provincial Map - The

The Grand Duchy of The Riverlands

Provincial Map - The

The Grand Duchy of The Stormlands

Provincial Map - The

The Grand Duchy of The Vale

Provincial Map - The

The Grand Duchy of The Westerlands

A map of the Planned Raised land of the Crownlands Within the First two dikes.

The Royal Eastern Seas Trading Company

The Flag of The Royal Eastern Seas Trading Company of Westeros, or T.R.E.S.T.C.O.W, founded by King Aenys Targaryen, first of that name in the year 37 AC.

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[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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#170

Chapter 6 Pointless, yet Magical

White Harbor was the least populated and second smallest of the cities of Westeros at the start of Aegon's conquest. It's population has been estimated to have been mayhaps 30 000 souls.

By the end of the first century, it had risen to become the third largest city on the continent, with a population well over 350 000 and the status as the second largest trading hub of the west after King's Landing and it's satellites.

This dramatic rise in size, wealth and power, can in large be attributed to the increase in the population and wealth of the North as a whole, and the role in which White Harbor played in the province's relationship with the rest of the kingdom.

Winterfell would remain the beating heart of the North, and the internal commercial center of the Grand Duchy, but it was through White Harbor that trade flowed.

Whale meat, blubber and oil from skagos, Bronzework from the Barrowlands, wood from the Wolfswood, and of course that universal Northern product, wool. All flowed through White Harbor and then to the rest of the nation, and in return flowed all the commodities of the south.

Paper, steel, machinery, armor, and of course, the product which was oh so essential for the North's rise as the most populous province of Westeros.

Food.

Extract from "The War of the Faith, Volume 4." By Aegon Freedman Von Oldtown.

The Merman's court was a livelier place than it had been in years.

Music, food and good drinks. A hall filled with laughter, jokes, serving women and men of various stations making their way to more discreet places to enjoy themselves.

Brandon had experienced many, many feasts in this hall and this one was little different than any other. Except for one point. His father did not sit in his seat tonight. Instead, he sat on its side.

Seated in the old high seat, sat the King of Westeros, Aenys Targaryen, son of Aegon.

As heir of the city, he was seated on the high table of course, but he sat near the end of it. As far away from the center as was possible without seeming like an insult to the king.

His father sat and seemed to have a good time with Aenys, though that wasn't anything new. Warrick Manderly loved a good feast, and all that came with it.

As his rather portly frame attested to.

He was a warm and open host, whether it be to his vassals, visiting princes, his Lord or his king.

Brandon was generally of a similar mind. One should be a generous host when you had guests.

Of course, there was a critical difference between Aenys and all the rest.

Brandon and Maegor did not have paid spies in their city and court.

His eyes went wandering to the rest of the room and soon enough he found the two miscreants he was looking for.

Arya, a serving wench of no particular note, except she sold her tales from their court to King's Landing, and even more galling, Tom Locke, a knight who also happened to be the son of one of their vassals.

Both of these two should have been hanged, and if not for one single thing, they most certainly would have been the moment their family had uncovered their treachery.

The thing in question was stabled outside in the courtyard.

No matter how galling it was to leave these damned spies alive, as his father had said, they had little choice in the matter.

To execute or remove them would firstly be a direct sign to the crown they knew about the spies in question. Secondly, it would be a direct challenge against the crown itself.

Aenys might not officially respond to it, but it would displease him mightily. And, as his father kept telling him, "We cannot anger the dragon."

So, here he sat at the edge of the long table, along with his son Theomore, the only way he could express his anger at the spies and informants in their court.

And the most galling thing about it was that other than the damned spies, he generally liked what Aenys had to offer.

Increasing Northern Trade, decisive leadership in times of crisis, a flair for style and grandiose without going completely overboard with it.

All of these were things he admired in the king. But he could not judge him merely on the basis of his leadership when he also planted spies and informants in his own home.

And with them being unable to actually do anything about it, the insult stang even more.

At his side, Theomore was chatting with a serving woman some 10 years his elder, and most likely it would end with the two of them skulking off somewhere private. Good for him. He was glad to see the boy growing up to become a man.

Finally, his glowering over the way of things was interrupted as Sam the Maester approached the long table along the walls. He had never been a bold man, and judging by his look he wanted to talk to his father.

Well, that was as good an excuse as any to leave the feast.

He hurriedly rose from his seat and began making his way to intercept Sam.

"Any news Sam?"

The old man did not look too worried, so probably not anything major.

"Yes my lord, we have some new arrivals from the west, house Waterman has just arrived and-"

"I'll take care of them. No need to disturb my father about it at the moment. He and the king are in discussion".

He gave one final glance towards the the pair at the center of the room.

His father was the way he always was, dressed in fine cloth in the light color of their house with the golden trident on the front like a crown.

To his side sat Aenys Targaryen, dressed in a finely made robe of black going down to his knees. The robe was trimmed with red and gold, with a tabard in front showcasing the Targaryen dragon with red-trimmed edges. On each sleeve was fine fur, and draped around his shoulders he had a large piece of fur which seemed to come from a snow bear, fastened to the robe with a couple of circular clasps engraved with the three-headed dragon.

The king wore an assortment of jewelry, from a simple golden belt clasp, to rings of gold, silver and dragonbone, his crown and a splendid amulet on his chest.

The 5 rings the king wore were all an assortment of unique designs, some small, some large.

The largest was a gold ring with a large topaz over two smaller amethysts, whereas the smallest was a simple silver ring with a golden star inlaid with small sapphires overlapping a crescent silver moon.

There was one gold ring with a design like a gnarly tree, and another silver one with a Wolf's head on it.

Finally, there was a Ring made of pure Dragonbone, engraved to showcase a strange rune he could best describe as a stylized crescent moon with a dot where the full moon's center would be.

On his head was a large pure golden Crown, inlaid with dragon imagery. It was in every way the complete opposite of the simple and modest crown the Starks had worn during their time as Kings in The North.

Finally, and most extravagant was the jewel he wore on his chest. In the center was a Massive red diamond cut ruby, encased in a golden clasp, that was in turn inlaid with 8 smaller jewels; A diamond, a topaz, a sapphire, a garnet, an opal, an aquamarine, an emerald and finally a spinel.

It was without any doubt the single most valuable thing Brandon had ever seen in his life, and quite possibly worth more than all the rest of the king's jewelry.

Well, time to go greet the Watermen. The king was to leave Northwards on the morrow and it would not do if their vassals did not get to greet the king before he left.

The sight of Winterfell was truly a sight for sore, cold and tired eyes.

I had stayed a bit longer at White Harbor than I had planned(two whole weeks, as opposed to the 3 days I had planned), and finally left after the weather finally let up, and I had expected smooth flying all the way. And I had gotten it, no rains and the wind at my back. What I had also gotten was cold. Lots, and lots of cold.

Holy shit it was cold to fly in the north, and it wasn't even winter. The North apparently had relatively high temperatures in summer, but we were only two years into spring. The continuous spring rains had stopped long ago, but if you dared to venture more than 15 feet of the ground, the air was chilly as fuck, not helped by the biting wind.

Now though, it was finally time to get this abysmal journey over with. When I had crushed the Ironborn, I had had two options. Either I would go to the North first, or last.

I had chosen first. Because of course, I had done so. In hindsight, I should just have sent a damned letter by raven.

But in my infinite wisdom, I had chosen to fly to all my lord paramounts and wardens to talk to them personally for my plans and calling them to the first great westerosi council to deal with tax reforms, law changes and just planning the development of the provinces. Also introducing technology. And new lordly titles. And… Well, there were seemingly endless amounts of shit to do.

And I would need to gather all my highest lords to get it done.

And with any luck, The Warden of The North would also solve the problem of a bride for Viserys.

According to Manderly, Stark's daughter had several northern lordlings who were currently courting her hand, but unless she had gotten engaged or married sometime in the last two weeks, she would still be a possible bride for my boy.

Well, it was merely one of the things I would chat with Brandon Stark about.

Now though was the time for landing. I had originally planned to just land inside the courtyard, but in correspondence with Stark, he had asked me to land by the eastern gate, where he had prepared a stable for Quicksilver, as well as a changing room where I could get out of my traveling leather and into more royal clothing.

Walton Stark had not dreamed of the coming of Aenys.

That was strange. Most of the important events in his life had been preceded by a dream of things to come, for good and ill.

His first sign that something was wrong was a brief flash of impending doom as he sat on the privy.

The overwhelming feeling that something was utterly wrong. There was danger, and it was close.

The feeling vanished as quickly as it had come and he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

After that, he finished up his business and headed back to the world of companionship and warmth that was Winterfell.

A Winterfell in far more chaos than usual. Men at arms and serving folk ran around like ants at work filling the usually quiet and peaceful castle with annoying sounds.

He stopped a serving woman.

"What's going on?"

"It's the King." Answered. "He's finally come."

Then she continued on her way, leaving him to consider.

A feeling of dread and doom as the king finally arrived? He would have to be quite simple not to take that omen seriously.

Either way, he had a place to be.

Alaric was already there with his sons as Walton finally arrived by the eastern gate yard.

"Brother! Finally, joining us are you? Father's out looking for you."

"I was at the privy."

"Good thing you got here before father then, he'd have a fit if you missed the king's arrival because you were shitting."

Another man might have said that with a smile on his lips, but not Alaric Stark. He was as cold and serious as the northern Mountains.

He then barked to a servant to go tell their father that his heir had arrived.

"How big do you think the dragon is uncle?" asked little Rickon.

"Big enough." He simply replied.

Finally, their father, Brandon Stark appeared. He was breathing heavily, a result of having run around for fifteen minutes.

"Everyone's here?" He made a quick overview of everyone.

"Wheres Maege?"

"She's with the babe."

Brandon swore.

"Relax father" Walton soothed. "I doubt Aenys will care much whe-"

And there he stopped.

He turned his eyes to the gate and the drawbridge, and outer gate outside it.

The first thing he saw, was the shadows.

The sun was not yet risen fully into the sky, so coming from the east, shadows would fall west. Not like this, however.

The shadows crept over the drawbridge, like a snake upon the ground. No, like three snakes upon the ground. Uncaring for how they should move, the shadows moved like a mass into the courtyard and then to the sides, moving and circling all around the ground, before finally retreating back to mass from whence they had come.

It was wrong. So damned wrong. The overwhelming feeling which had so briefly struck him before, was back, only now, it was not a moment. It was a constant. It was a center of doom and dread. A center moving slowly, deliberately, across the drawbridge.

As it began to close, the other shadows in the yard, began to move as well. They curved, they moved in bizarre patterns, all away from that which was approaching like the doom of old, yet all shackled and anchored by their origin.

He shook, feeling his very bones rattle. This… This was fear. Pure animalistic fear.

Finally, the source came under the gate and stepped into the yard.

There were 6 men along with him, but Walton could not process them. His eyes were glued to the figure in the middle, stepping into his home like it was it's den.

The figure was tall, dressed in darkness like coal with red blood painted on it.

The drawbridge was raised, the gate was slammed shut, and upon their surface, the shadows moved up along, and took a true form.

Two enormous wings, reaching from one side of the yard to another, an enormous body, yet slim and thin, and from it sprung three heads with long necks like serpents.

Three sets of eyes opened and looked down upon the yard. Red, like burning fire they were.

They stared down upon his family in judgment.

His father, without fear, or any seeming attention to the overwhelming danger, walked up to the source of the shadow.

For a moment every sinew in his body screamed at him to do something, and he almost screamed for his family's soldiers to attack, to kill this monster.

Sanity prevailed against the brief moment of madness, however, and he bit down hard instead to keep himself from saying anything.

Instead, he forced himself to remain quiet and still. His instincts told him to run. His familial duty to protect his father, his mind to do nothing.

Finally, his father knelt in front of the man.

"Your grace. Winterfell is yours."

The dragon heads smiled, and Walton forced himself to look, to truly look at the man.

He finally looked at his face, something he realized he had avoided.

In comparison to everything else, Aenys Targaryen's face was a normal one, but Walton did not look upon his face. His eyes went up instead, to the King's forehead.

There, closed and shut, rested something. He knew not what it was, but he knew it was shut and closed, as much as he knew that the Wall was the end of the World.

"Rise my Lord."

Four voices spoke those words. One from the man, and one from each of the shadow's heads.

It was as if 3 wraiths repeated them, only all the words were spoken in unison.

"Now my lord, after you have introduced me to your family, I shall need to speak with you alone. Mayhaps you may show me your famous crypts as we talk?"

"The… The crypts?"

"Yes. I have not yet visited them on any of my trips here. That is an oversight on my part. An error I shall soon be correcting."

Humfrey did not like the crypts of Winterfell.

He did not like the darkness that enveloped every nook and cranny in which their torches did not reach.

He did not like the judging stares from the wolf kings and their hounds staring disapprovingly at them as they walked by.

He did not like the chill, that seemed to permeate through every damned wing they passed ln the journey downwards towards the origin.

But above absolutely everything, he did not like the way it felt. The crypts of Winterfell felt hostile towards them as if it directly accused

Them of being somewhere they were Not wanted.

This place, more than anywhere else he had been had a mind to it, a will that he could feel.

Places should not have minds of their own. It was wrong. Yet here they were.

And like everywhere else, Aenys was talking about all his plans.

"So, you want me to gather over a thousand men that's not coming back, most likely ever, and send them south?"

"Yes. I am aware of the dangers of doing this in the North, so make certain to not take too many men from each province or village. Spread it out. A hundred men from each of the major centers of the North, should be spread out enough.."

Stark didn't like that, he saw, but the king moved on before he could speak.

"As for a matter not related to war, I also wanted to discuss some family matters. Namely, I am looking for a bride for my son Viserys."

The king gave him a smile, as he expectedly let Brandon continue the conversation.

"In that case, I must disappoint you, your grace. My daughter Danny married 9 days ago."

Aenys stumbled in shock before quickly catching himself.

"She did?"

"Yes. She has had several suitors this last year. I must say it was time she settled on one."

Humfrey glanced at the king's face. That was a truly annoyed expression like he had just lost something he had been looking forward to for quite a while.

"I must say your grace if you were that set on a match, mayhaps you should have sent a letter. If I had known you wished to join our houses, I am certain we could have worked something out."

The wolf's voice was a weird mix between annoyance, sarcasm and… Smugness?

The king took a deep breath, then continued.

"Well, too late now in any case. I hope your daughter had a nice wedding."

"Oh, she did, it was quite the grand affair. And I am rather certain she will have a good time at Last Heart with my Goodson."

His tone implied very bad things would happen to his Goodson if she did not.

"Speaking of family… Does your brother plan to return to The North in the near future?"

"Probably not. Why do you ask? Don't tell me you found him to be great company?"

Stark snorted.

"About as much as I would enjoy hosting a pit viper. No, what interests me is his prowess in battle. I visited Barrowton during the great melee 4 Months back. I bet 30 000 dragons on him becoming champion."

"I imagine you went home a richer man then."

"Indeed. 32 bet against me, on various warriors."

"That's quite a number of betters, how many warriors fought in the melee?"

"Oh, some 1100 or so."

"1100." The King Said flatly. "On a melee?"

"I imagine that's quite a bit more than your southron jousting is it not? Anyhow, your brother was a storm on the field, wielding that wicked blunt mace of his."

"You should see him with Dark sister then. He's death itself with that blade."

"No doubt. He killed 27 men wielding only a blunted mace, and he beat countless others"

27...27 deaths? Of a tournament? Gods all mighty that was a high number.

"How many men died total?"

"43."

So Maegor killed over half the men who died then.

They walked in silence after that, for a bit before Aenys continued.

"Speaking of family. Is your son… Alright? He seemed like he would die of shivering when I talked to him."

"I… I am not certain. He seemed fine earlier today. I'll have the Maester look over him."

Another awkward pause set in.

This time it was Humfrey who broke the silence.

"How… How big are these crypts?"

"Larger than Winterfell itself, ser knight."

He motioned with the hand not holding his torch.

"My family goes back thousands and thousands of years. Hundreds of generations are buried down here. Well over a hundred Brandons who bore the crown of winter and a hundred other kings as well."

"I think what Humfrey wanted to ask..." The king interjected diplomatically. "Is how much longer before our destination?"

"Oh, that. 4 more levels down and 3 chambers to the left."

Oh, thank the gods, the trip out of this consuming darkness wouldn't be nearly as long as he had feared.

"Speaking of our destination now is as good a time to ask. How is the Night's Watch doing?"

"Not well. 40 years ago they had 10 000 men. The last time I was there, that number 7 643 men."

"A sharp decline in recruits I'm guessing."

"Aye. Peace down south isn't good for the watch. It never is. In the north, we honor the watch and many noble sons go to join the black brothers of their own free will. Southrons though does not."

It was harsh words. But not untrue ones. Humfrey could count on his hands the number of Lords sons he had seen take the black.

"Yes, that is the gist of it. The black brothers are in danger of their traditional way of recruiting after war to be obsolete. And since they don't have sons of their own, we cannot simply let them be, that way lies extinction. We may need to take drastic action to keep the bulwark against the horrors beyond the wall at bay."

"If I could manage to get dragons beyond the wall, I could send Maegor to do to the wildlings, what I'm sending him to do to the Dothraki, but that seems unlikely."

"...I feel like the rider who forgot his lance. What is Maegor going to do to the Dothraki?"

"He is going exterminate them completely and totally from dragon back."

"You're joking."

"Not at all. The Dothraki are a plague upon the world. And the cure for that is fire from the sky. It might take him half a decade depending upon how well the horse lords adapt, but he will get the job done. He is ruthless and determined enough to do it."

"...Not that I disagree with any of those sentiments your grace, but surely you are getting something in return for this errand?"

"Yes. Many of the free cities should be willing to pay quite the sum to get rid of the Dothraki once and for all."

"Ah. Yes, that makes sense."

He sounded disappointed.

They passed wings that had caved in as they descended further and further down into the bowels of Winterfell.

Countless lords judged them on their march, and countless wolves were there to greet them from the darkness.

"You mentioned not getting dragons beyond the wall..."

"Aye, my father never did manage to get balerion beyond the wall, and I suspect I will have no luck Quicksilver either. If I do manage to get Maegor with Balerion however…" His voice turned cold as ice. "I will turn everything beyond the wall into a barren burned desert, in which no living thing may exist. No bones or corpses shall remain there. Only frozen ash"

Then like, nothing had happened, he went back to his regular cheery tone.

"But most likely, that will not happen. So we shall have to deal with the Wildling threat in more mundane ways. For one, I have been designing a new form of crossbow I shall introduce to the watch. That and the arrows I will begin to send them should make their lives much easier."

Another silence arose. This time though, it was broken not with another conversation, but a statement.

"We're here."

They stood in front of another opening into yet another chamber. No different than any of the others. If Brandon hadnt pointed it out as their destination, he would never have guessed there was anything special about it.

Yet, it was the site Aenys had come down here to see. So as the king entered, he followed, as his oaths required.

Brandon Stark the first was laid to rest no differently than any of the countless number of descendants that had followed him.

He had a seated statue overseeing his casket, he had a direwolf by his leg and he wore the same crown as all the rest.

If he had once had an iron sword on him, it had rusted away so long ago that not even the stains remained.

But the part I inspected was his face.

Well, he kinda looked like tv Bran, just with more stark like features.

I wasn't entirely sure why I had come down here.

I suppose part of me had just wanted to confirm that he was real. Whether he truly had been the builder of legend or not, Brandon the First had existed once. Thousands of years ago.

As for the time loop theory, of Brandon the Broken becoming Brandon the First, I had no way of learning the truth or falsehood of it.

The runes on his tomb were not something I could read, but I had checked how to read rune numbers at white harbor.

And the weird I with two smaller / was the old runic sign for 1.

The stone Brandon was dressed in a long robe open in front and back along with a pair of shoes.

Because boots weren't a thing during his age apparently.

"It's been a while since anybody was down here." The living Brandon said. His tone was filled with far more reverence than it was when talked with me. "The last time was… When I took my sons down here. That was over 15 years back."

"So this is the Builder," Humfrey said. "The man who built the Hightower."

Brandon snorted.

"That and so much more."

Suddenly I just felt like a complete idiot. Why had I come down here exactly? Oh, I knew why, but what point did it serve? I was going to build the future on technology, progress, industry and looking to the future. Not on trying to recapture magical wonders of the old world.

I had all the magic I needed. It was called dragonfire.

The Royal Eastern Seas Trading Company of Westeros, is a somewhat misleading name, as the organization traded in all directions except for West, not merely to the east. From the coasts of the North on both sides of province, whether it be Bear Island, White Harbor or Skagos, to the southern provinces with their exotic spices, wood, and jewels.

All wealth flowed to and from King's Landing, as the city prospered and grew. The City's rise as the largest and richest city on Planetos however, would not have been possible without the enormous and lucrative trade network, which the Eastern Seas Company was so essential in creating.

The city would finally surpass the free cities in population in the year 52, the great port city Yin, capital of the old empire of Yi Ti in 65. In the year 75, it finally exceeded the city of New Turrani as the most populated city in the world.

It would not be before the year 98 After Conquest, however, that the dream of Aenys the first was realized, as in that year the city finally exceeded Asshai by the shadow in size, though in population it had been superior for almost it's entire existence.

Extract from "The Royal Eastern Seas Trading Company of Westeros - Volume 1" by Company Historian Wylla Manderly.

Last edited: Mar 4, 2020

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Mar 11, 2020

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Chapter 7 Northern Contemplation

Despite its name, the kingdom of Westeros would ironically not actually control the entire continent from which it took its name until the year 323, long after the Nations golden age had ended.

Extract from "After the End Times" by Lena von Duskendale.

The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and not a hint of wind.

It would have been the perfect time to fly and visit every other seat in the North.

That wasn't happening though. I was done with flying in the north. I was making a few smaller trips, then I would eventually make one more trip even more north to the wall, and then it was back to the south for me. And hopefully, I would never have to visit this province ever again.

For now, I would enjoy Winterfell and it's marvels.

The sight of Wintertown was an impressive one as far as Westerosi towns went. The city(as it's new charter deemed it.) was impressively made, though not quite as majestic as White Harbor.

The city had a grid, though not a perfect one. It wasn't nearly as perfect as my king's Landing would be, but compared to the current King's Landing, it was a masterpiece.

The main road the city was based around, was the east road from Winterfell itself, and that give it a pretty decent starting point. The main thing that made the city different from others in the land was it's interconnectivity.

Like its castle, many of the buildings were made in such a way that you could go through them without having to go outside.

It wasn't as committed to that idea as it could be(the buildings which fit this criteria was the parts that were currently unpopulated until autumn.) but a truly massive part of the city had those second story pathways over the roads.

It was an interesting idea, but I could see that going really wrong in a city of millions, so none of that for king's landing.

I wasn't entirely sure how to improve the internal Northern Cities, to be honest. My preferred way would be through trains. If I could set up a train network I would be able to transport food and all the other resources the North needed no problem.

Problem was that my expertise had never been on trains. I had been marveled by steamships and in my youth, those had been what I memorized so diligently.

I knew the concept behind steamtrains, they weren't that different than steamships in inner workings, but that didn't mean I would be able to make one. It was like asking a swordsmith to make plate armor. Both were technically the same field, but the implementation was different enough that it didn't instantly translate between each other.

So that would mean that realistically we would be stuck with steamship for the foreseeable future. Great for all my coast settlements, and I would hopefully be able to get ships up the white knife to near Winterfell, but that was it. Further inland wasn't gonna happen. Not until I got my canals going anyway.

That meant that sleds would be how I transported goods in the North during winter.

Stark hadn't believed much in the concept. Nor in my skiis. Or… whatever the hell you called those tennis rackets you put under your feet to go over snow easy.

Stark had in general proven a much more neutral audience than Arryn, Greyjoy and Tully had been.

He hadn't been opposed to my ideas, but he hadn't been particularly interested in them either. In particular he had not enjoyed the idea of a biyearly council of the king and all the Lord Paramounts and Wardens either.

It wasn't quite the house of lords, but…

Actually, it wasn't like the house of lords at all. The point of the thing wasn't really a democracy, it was to get the leaders of my continent together to set a course for the future and to determine where the major investment in each province would happen the next years.

I was still the defacto and dejure dictator of the land, with all power that was not directly against my feudal limitations.

I could either set the stage for an absolute monarchy, or a constitutional one of some kind. Either was fully possible at this point.

I was going to go with a constitutional monarchy, though how far I would introduce democracy remained to be seen.

I had some idea of each region having a regional parliament, that answered to a royal continental council in King's Landing.

Whether that council would be made up of representatives from each region, one made up of crownlanders or a mixture, I wasn't sure.

One thing was for sure though, even if a provincial policy was set in the capital, if I wanted shit done, I would need to let each of the provinces have some say or input in how cash was spent.

The sheer size of Westeros wouldn't allow for anything else.

If my estimations were right, the North by it's lonesome was the size of Brazil, the fifth-largest country on Earth.

Trying to micromanage everything was never gonna work.

There would be no bullshit about "State Rights", or "No Taxes without Representation" though.

Every single province would operate under the same rules, the laws and the same rights and duties as everyone else. I had plans of my Kingdom going down the same road the USA, with half the country up in arms due to shitty separate laws. One united law code was the best way to go, as history had proven time and again.

As for taxation, that was literarily going to be on top of the section of duties under the Westerosi Constitution. If you owned property, you paid the yearly taxes. End of story. The monarch owned the land everything was built on, every field that was tilled and planted belonged to me.

The smallfolk would have the right to sell their buildings, move wherever they pleased and to make new fields and houses wherever they wished(outside certain areas like my royal woods of course), but if you owned a building, a tilted field, or anything else, you paid taxes to your overlord, who in turn cashed it in to me eventually.

I wondered how Stark would react when I told him about my plans for the taxation reforms.

Maybe that would bring a smile to his face? Or maybe he would be cold and tell me how much the smaller lords would hate it? Probably that.

I had not gotten a warm reception at Winterfell. I hadn't gotten a horrible reception either, but for the most part, it had been a more quiet affair.

His son Walton was terrified of me for whatever reason, his brother Alaric was as cold as the reputation the North had about him during the time Alysanne came to the North.

He was basically Stannis if Stannis got along well with his family.

I got a bit more well along with his sons and wife who had all been interested in hearing tales from the crushing of the revolt on the islands.

Truth be told everyone at the castle had been eager to hear how thousands of Ironborn died horribly during two short and brutal battles. It was really kinda disturbing, to be honest.

All in all, Winterfell was courteous, but not warm. I hadn't expected tourneys or celebrations but… Well, this passive-aggressive coldness was something new so far in my reign. I couldn't remember it being this cold during my previous visits to the North, back when Aenys had been crown prince.

But that had been long ago. Back when Aegon was alive. I hadn't meet Walton back then. He had apparently been ward to some lord during that time. Was that the reason for this reception? That the heir was terrified of me?

Well, I wouldn't be staying much longer.

At least Wintertown seemed to love me. I had held court there several times now and frankly, the smallfolk had been a much more pleasant company their lord.

Quicksilver had woken quite a lot of awe in the townsfolk, and as I had let anyone who wished see her, to so free of charge.

We were still at the honeymoon phase of that relationship, but we'd leave before they began to resent how much food she needed.

Unlike the Northern Nobility, the smallfolk didn't resent my style either.

Admittingly it was a bit fancy but I had seen more than one annoyed scowl at my more subdued clothing. Well, subdued compared to my regular wear anyway.

Right now I was wearing a piece that was essentially an edited version of the Emperor's robes from Skyrim, with the septim dragon replaced by my three-headed firebreathing one of course.

It had not woken any annoyance in White Harbor, but here in the capital of First Men Culture, extravagance of any kind was frowned upon.

Well, that and my rings and jewelry.

The Northerners had not been impressed by my Royal regalia.

Well, the nobility anyway. The smallfolk had been properly awed, though the fact that I had been doing a good job at dispensing justice during my court here probably had something to do with it.

It was a much more impressive sight when the fancy-dressed lord actually did his duty in a regal manner after all.

Thankfully it hadn't been anything too difficult I had had to judge so far. A man had beaten his wife to death, and I had summarily cut his head off with Blackfyre to the cheer of the crowd(Bloodthirsty lot that they were). There had been other criminals too, but he was the only one of the level I needed to kill him for his crimes.

I should probably be really worried about how quickly I had adapted to killing people. I could only assume Aeny's upbringing had a lot to do with that.

I kinda wish I could just cold court in Wintertown all the time, given the reception I got there, but that road led nowhere.

It was Brandon Stark I needed to win to my side here, not merely his smallfolk. That was canon Aenys big fault. He had thought having the love of the common folk was enough to rule.

It wasn't.

I Needed to get Brandon Stark on board with my plans.

It was one of the reasons I had chosen not to offer a royal match to Tully when staying at Riverrun.

I had hoped to bind either Greyjoy or Stark to me through blood, as they were the most "Other" of my lord paramounts. A marriage would have smoothed and helped those relationships over a lot.

In hindsight that had been a mistake, and continuing this luck, the Tully girls had probably gotten married too while I was in the North.

If so that left only the Tyrells.

I had blood ties to house Baratheon already in my own veins, and I had betrothals to both Arryn and Lannister. I really wanted to secure another great house marriage, but with this luck, I would need to settle for a secondary house. God knows there were a lot of those.

The more powerful houses I had on my side, the easier it would be to force my constitution of Westeros down the throats of my nobility.

There would be a lot of things in it that would gall them, but they would swallow it. With fire if necessary, but I would much rather they swallowed it of their own free will.

My musings on the future were interrupted by the somewhat mundane, but out of nowhere occurrence of a cat leaping and killing a bird on the castle walls.

Both I and Humfrey turned to look at the cat as it bit the bird hard across the back as it trashed it with it's lower legs.

It was an usual sight, one I had seen countless times in Amsterdam, the Aegonfort, Dragonstone and the streets of King's landing.

What was not usual was the cat. This northern cat breed was something else.

I had expected most cats of the North to be breeds like the Norwegian Forest Cat, and they're certainly was Kitties like that here. But there were also these guys.

It was the fluffiest breed I had ever seen, completely covered in huge dense fur. Pretty understandable for a northern cat.

It also had round ears like a teddybear and round human-like pupils giving it expressions that seemed far more human than any cat should. It was a strange and somewhat unsettling sight.

"The Northerners truly have the most bizarre animals," Humfrey commented as the kitty began dragging the now dead bird away while looking at us like we were assholes for staying around here.

"It's just a cat breed Humfrey. In Dorne, they breed the common tame cats with their local wildcats to breed larger and more clever pets into existence."

"Umm… They do so here too your grace."

"Really?"

"Yes, there is a local breed of cats where they interbreed the Lynx population with their cats."

"Huh, that so."

Did that happen on earth too? I didn't know, about the only such pet I had familiarity with was the savannah cat, and I knew the dornish breed those.

I wondered how many other such fantastical hybrids existed in this world whether through magic or natural.

Whether the Valyrians really had used magic to infuse their genes with the DNA of dragons as some theories suggested was a question I did not know the answer to. I did, however, know they had been big into their Frankenstein shit on Gogossoss, where they had used slave women, captive beasts and sorcery to breed horrible chimeras.

If the timeline hadn't made it impossible, I would have assumed the product of these monstrous experiments was the origin of the more fantastical humanoids of the far far east.

The tales of the age of the long night spoke of Tiger women and a girl with a monkey tail, the tales beyond the five forts talked about the shryke snakemen, who if they were real, was the closest thing this world had to argonians, and around the hidden sea, there was supposedly men with large leathery wings who could fly.

The maesters dismissed all of it as nonsense, but the Maesters always would downplay any fantastical element of the world.

All of these tales predated the rise of Gogossoss, and the geography didn't match up with their locations anyway. Which meant if they existed, they were either natural, or there had been some other horrible society that bred forth Chimeras into the world.

K'Dath, Carcosa, and Stygai would be my picks as the most likely culprits in that case.

2 Cities named after creepy supernatural Lovecraft cities and one after the old land of darkness from Conan myths, and the origin of "The Shadow", whatever that was.

The world was filled with horrors, not merely to the North.

"How many mammoths do you think still lives beyond the wall Humfrey?"

"Mammoths? I… I don't know. Some thousands?"

"I rather hope it's more than merely a few thousands. One would need at least 2000 or so to serve as a strong breeding pool to avoid the full consequence of inbreeding."

Humfrey didn't answer but looked mighty uncomfortable.

"That's, of course, assuming I could get a decently sized population south of the wall. Which seems rather tricky unless I allowed giants to pass the wall in strength."

"I would not recommend putting that suggestion to lord stark."

I chuckled.

"So far I have avoided making him outright hate me, and I would rather prefer that remain the same when we leave. A king can be feared or he can be loved and he can rule effectively in either case. He cannot do so if he's hated, however."

"That has the air of a quote behind it."

"Nah, just something I made up just now. It's very much true, however."

I turned back to gaze out over the city.

"It is best for any ruler if his subjects love him. Morons and cynics will say that fear is stronger, but they are fools. People will go above and beyond for men they love, whereas if they merely fear their ruler, their loyalty will evaporate the moment any reason to fear him is gone."

The contrast between how the men who loved Daemon Blackfyre and Eddard Stark had reacted after their deaths compared to how no one cared about the memory of Tywin and Daeron was proof enough of that.

No one except his family had truly loved Daeron the second, and when he was gone no one had rallied behind Aerys the bookworm or Maekar the Kinslayer. He and his son Egg had been forced to fight for loyalty.

As for Tywin… He was a man who was feared more than he was hated. But he WAS truly hated, along with all his children, and thus his house would likely go down the path of extinction in the near future(or maybe only Tyrion would survive if the tv show was any indication.) as all would abandon them due to hating the golden lion.

That would not be my legacy. I would be loved, feared and respected by my people. My smallfolk would love me, the Lords would respect me, and the Ironborn would fear me.

Pissing off Stark by suggesting I allow giants back into the North wasn't gonna happen.

It was not a hill I was planning on dying on. Unlike the right of the first night, or taxation.

"I must say, your grace. You have changed a lot since putting on that crown."

"Anyone who is not changed when they claim imperium, is a fool Humfrey. It shows they do not take their new duties seriously. When you don a crown, you HAVE to change. Elsewise you'll get killed or never get anything done. Imagine if instead of crushing the revolts against me, I had instead tried to negotiate with the rebels. I might have tried that in my youth. And I would have looked like a fool and a weakling."

"I am a man who love and prefer peace Humfrey. I have always been one. But there are times when there is time for the sword when a dialog isn't welcome. When you crush a man, and he bends his knee, you must help him back unto his feet, else wise no man will ever bend to you again. If he defies you, you must give him fire and steel."

"You're full good quotes today, your grace."

I chuckled.

"Mayhaps I should write a book for kings. A guide for my successors to good rulership."

That… wasn't a bad idea actually. I could write a governing version of Sun Tsu's art of war.

It was something to think about at least.

It was a warm day in general, but the heat from where Rickon was lying was as if he was leaning up against the glasshouse.

He was currently lying on a beam in the Dragonstable his father had made for the king. Below him lay a dragon.

Of all the tales his father and the old folk had told him, the ones he'd always liked the most were the stories of monsters.

It wasn't that he didn't like a good story about a warrior and great men, but he'd never really cared about all that boring stuff, of who was who in the north. Unless he'd meet them before, he just couldn't remember who had what sigil.

The stories he really loved though, were the ones with monsters in them. Giants who ate the flesh of men and rode the great and terrifying mammoth. The others and their pale spiders. The thing came in the night at the wall.

And of course, Dragons.

Dragon stories were amongst his favorites. So when he had heard that the king himself would visit with a dragon, he had so excited.

The moment the feast welcoming the king was over, he had gone out to see the dragon.

He had expected it to be incredible, scary and awesome. He hadn't expected it to be so beautiful.

The beast was massive, towering over the largest of bulls and horses, tall as several buildings in wintertown. Massive batlike wings, teeth longer than his forearm, and a hide of silver scales.

And when it took flight, it was like a flying torch of silver.

And it was incredible.

His grandfather had forbidden him from seeing the dragon without guards, and he didn't get to see it more than once a day for a brief moment. Not that he let that stop him.

It was easy to get in and out of Winterfell with the stable being directly up against the wall. At least if you had some familiarity with climbing, which he did. He and his brother had grown up climbing every single corner of this castle to their mother's despair.

It had been easy for him to get out to the outer walls then a short jump down to the stable roof and in through one of the openings near the top.

From there it had just been a couple of tumbles down to a beam, then he lied down and waited for the dragon to return.

When it had returned the first time, it had come back with a dead white bear in its jaws. He had watched in silence, fascinated as it breathed fire on the carcass and ripped the cooked meat apart.

The bear was many, many times larger than he was, and the dragon crunched its skull between its teeth the same way he would bite down on an apple.

It was mesmerizing.

Ever since he had sneaked to watch it each day, to take in its marvel. He wondered how it would be like to fly upon it's back as it took flight.

If had been braver he might have asked the king for a ride.

He liked the king. He was sociable, quick to tell tales and he joked when he spoke, completely unlike his father. He had also killed a lot of those evil Ironmen, which was always good. It was proper for a king to put those evil Ironborn in their place.

His grandfather, however, did not like the king. At all.

He really didn't get why either.

He had overheard him and father complaining about how the king was decadent(whatever that meant) with his clothing, but frankly, he wasn't dressed that much more differently than Lord Manderly, and grandfather had nothing but praise for him.

It was weird. Still, Grandfather did not insult him the way he generally did with men he didn't like. Actually, he didn't act much like how he usually did ever since the king came.

Usually, he would welcome guests with open arms and a smile, or tell them to leave with a sword across his knees.

Now he was just quiet, didn't speak much unless spoken to, and spent way more time alone with the king than he ever did with anyone else(And unlike his private talks with lord Manderly, he didn't have a smile afterward either.

It was like his usual passion was all gone.

Father was also not fond of the king, but unlike grandfather, he was generally not a warm person in general, so the change wasn't as easy to spot.

Rickon was pulled out of his mix of wondering about family and mesmerizing over the dragon when he heard voices coming from outside the building.

The got louder as they got closer and he scooted closer to the center of the pillar.

One of the voices was the king and the other was… his grandfather?

Well, that wasn't good. But then again he had remained unseen here for days, with none of the visiting villagers having seen him.

"-begin the draining sometime in the next few years. I refuse to build a road directly through the neck. That's begging for an under traveled road."

"As you say, your grace. The crannogmen who live by the coast will not be pleased though, I can tell you that."

"They'll come around eventually. If I can drain the neck, they'll sit on a pretty massive piece of very fertile land. This would be a start on that."

Finally, they came into the barn.

"I still say we don't need to fly. The spot isn't far from here, just a day's ride. I could get some 50 riders to guard us and-"

"We fly stark." The king interrupted him, though not harshly.

"Now, when we arrive we can-"

The sound of a drawn sword sounded loud and clear.

"Humfrey?"

"There is someone up on the beams your grace. An assassin most like."

Crap. Crap, crap crap.

"That so?"

The sound of movement. Something large. The dragon's head rose up over the beam. His breath caught as a pair of silver orbs stared down upon him.

"I would recommend dropping your weapon assassin. I'll give you five seconds to yield before Quicksilver drags you down here. One."

"WAIT." He squealed as he got to his feet.

"Rickon?!" His grandfather exclaimed in a worried tone. That lasted for one brief moment before it became rage.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY, GET DOWN HERE, NOW!"

This was going to be bad, he could feel it.

"Maybe we should get the boy a ladder to get-" the king's voice stopped as he got moving.

He jumped down on a lower beam before quickly descending along one of the standing beams.

The king looked impressed. The knight looked awkward with his sword like he wasn't sure whether to hold it ready or not.

Grandfather looked furious.

"And I stand corrected." The king said somewhat bemused.

His grandfather was anything but amused.

He swallowed. This was gonna suck.

Out of its many provinces, only the grand duchy of Sothoryos ever enjoyed "special laws" unique to it. It alone amongst all of the Kingdom's continental and island holdings carried the label of "Colony".

The reason for this was the extremely volatile position of the grand duchy.

Despite being the largest single province of the nation by a wide margin, Sothoryos was also the least populated(at least by Westerosi) province in the entire kingdom. The local brindlemen who bent before the Iron Throne provided the vast majority of the land's accounted population. Even with these included, the duchy only had 3 million subjects of the crown in 150 AC.

Constant disease, attack by hostile brindled men, and the extremely hostile local fauna led to a very unstable province, where martial law and forced quarantine was commonplace.

It was not before the year 172, over a hundred years into the Duchy's history that Westerosi maesters finally began to make headway against the continent's diseases, especially against the Red Death, the most devastating diseases on the planet.

Extract from "The Empire from the West" by Daemona Von Riften.

Mar 12, 2020

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Supplementary 2 - Rings, Jewels and Artifacts part 1

The Crown of Aegon the Conqueror.

History and Description:

Made of Valyrian Steel, and dotted with rubies, this slender, yet regal band is generally considered amongst the more practical of the Targaryen Crowns. This can best be demonstrated by the fact that Aenys the first made it the official Warcrown of Westeros, and would always wear it in periods of war.

Outside of war however, it did not see use as a regular crown for any monarch after the death of Aegon.

Lost beneath the waves during the battle of the Narrow sea.

The Crown of Aenys the First, King of Dreams.

History and Description:

A Large crown of pure Gold, decorated with imagery of Dragons, Aenys Crown was amongst the more massive Targaryen Crowns. While most Targaryen Monarchs would make their own Crowns, this crown became the traditional coronation crown in the event that the new monarch did not have a crown ready to go upon their ascension. As a standard Crown however, it would not be used regularily again after Aenys Death until the end of the Third Century and the beginning of the fourth.

Still in Crowns possession.

The Amulet of Kings.

History and Description:

A large Diamond cut Ruby enclasped in gold, rimmed with smaller jewels of varying kinds. Like most of the Royal Family's more famous Jewelry, the Amulet of Kings was created by Aenys the First. Out of all of Aenys regalia, this jewel is by far the most famous, and it would eventually become one of the two defining symbols of Kingships in Westeros, along with Blackfyre. the reason for its success above most of Aenys other jewelry can in large be attributed to its visibility, always visible at the Monarch's chest during all their travels.

It's name presumably comes from it's role as crown regalia.

The Ring of Moon and Star.

History and Description:

A silver ring adorned with a silver crescent moon and a golden star embedded with sapphires above it. Would eventually become the Badge of office for the Princes of the Black Tower. Acording to Aenys himself, this was his favorite ring.

Name origin is simple, as it refers to the moon and star which adorns the ring.

The Ring of Oblivion.

History and Description:

A ring made purely of Dragonbone, imbued with a rune of unknown meaning. despite being one of Aenys less Famous rings, This signet ring would become part of the coronation regalia of Westeros, in large part due to Aenys other rings being given away to the cadet branches of house Targaryen.

The name origin is unknown, but it is theorized that the Rune which adorns it means Oblivion.

The Ring of Namira

History and Description:

A pure golden ring with a pattern that has been described as like old trees, like dragon, like wings bat wings and various other things. Became the badge of office of the Prince of Summerhall.

Name origin is completely unknown. No amount of research has uncovered the meaning of Nemira, other than being a name sometimes used in Sarnor. Possibly it is named after a personal friend of Aenys?

The Ring of Khajiit.

History and Description:

A Golden ring embedded with two pearls, two amethysts, and a large Topaz over the two purple gemstones. One of the more intricate pieces of jewelry Aenys made.

The Ring is seemingly named after one of Aenys Cats, a Dornish Savannah Cat he named Khajiit.

The Ring of Hircine.

History and Description:

A silver ring with a wolf head adorning it. Was granted as a gift to General Rickon Stark during the War of the Faith.

Origin of name is unknown. Following the pattern of the ring of Khajiit, many scholars assume its named after a hound Aenys once owned.

Blackfyre.

History and Description:

The Valyrian Steel Sword of the King of Westeros. A black Longsword with draconic imagery for the hilt and crossguards. a large ruby pommel. One of the two defining symbols of Royal power in the kingdom of Westeros along with the Amulet of Kings.

Dark Sister.

History and Description:

A slim longsword with a large ruby in its hilt, with wavy fire themed crossguard and pommel. The second and less famous of the two valyrian steel swords of house Targaryen. The badge of Office of the Princes of Dragonstone.

Last edited: Mar 12, 2020

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks Chapter 8 Grudges New

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#240

Chapter 8 Grudges

To whomsoever of my successors rules the kingdom of Westeros in the final decades of the third century.

You will be in charge of the nation during the greatest crisis this continent has faced in millennia and the thing which the Targaryen dynasty has all been building up to deal with.

The return of the ancient enemy of mankind, the undead beings known as the Others, the White Walkers of the Woods, the cold gods, the white shadows and a whole host of other names related to their apocalyptic nature.

Here, in this final chapter, I will leave all the information I have on them, how and the why of their creation, who created them, their strengths and their weaknesses, their battlefield tactics, and the tactics you should employ against them.

Provided you follow these guidelines, you should be able to lead the kingdom of Westeros to victory in a war through conventional means as well as draconic power.

Whatever you do, make absolutely certain to not, under any circumstances get into a massive war, whether civil or external in the years leading up to this second war for the dawn. If the North falls, you will not be able to turn the war around. You must stop them at the wall. Preferably by making certain that the ice wall with all its spells does not break.

I have also compiled theories on how the wall may fall, and how to prevent such a scenario.

Extract from "The Way of Kingship" By Aenys Targaryen.

Visenya sat studying a map when she climbed in the window.

It was a standard map of Westeros with several moveable towers placed on it. She took a quick glance before Visenya spoke. The placements of the towers were somewhat puzzling. Rather than being the standard big castles, they were placed in a seemingly random pattern.

One was at Oldtown, one at the Stoney Sept, one at maidenpool, and a ton of others spread out along the south of Westeros. There were no towers in the North or the islands.

"Report." Her lady said as she closed the window behind her.

"Earlier reports have been confirmed. Aenys is gathering the Lord Paramounts and wardens to a large council before the war."

Visenya nodded absently.

"Has Tully had any luck on killing Harren the red since you took ship?"

"No my lady, he has proven completely unable to find the outlaw. Whether that is due to incompetence on his part or competence on Harrens I am not sure."

She snorted.

"He can raise 15 000 men, yet has trouble killing a few hundred outlaws. That is staggering incompetence on his part."

"As you say, my lady. We have also discovered more personal development in the Riverlands?"

"Oh?"

"It seems his highness has been looking for a bride for his son Viserys. There was a letter suggesting a match between him and a daughter of House Tully."

"I imagine the trout was happy at that."

"He was literarily skipping from joy my lady."

"Also, he will be sending 3 of his sons to act as officers in the coming war."

"Also, we have news from lord Harroway. He has agreed to the match and can send the bride as soon as you wish."

Visenys scowled.

"In hindsight, it would have been better if he had refused. Now I have to go and talk him back into line."

"My lady?"

"The marriage will not go ahead after all. The question of "why?" does not concern you."

"As you say, mistress."

That would mean something had changed. Had the lady killed Maegor's first bride? No, that couldn't be it, that would mean this marriage was even desirable, given Maegor's lack of an heir.

"Do you have any further orders from me at the moment?"

"No. You will return to the station you had in the capital before Aegon's death. You will remain there until further notice.

She nodded and made her way back to the window. It was going to be an annoying climb, but her mistress refused to let her use the door like a regular person. Not with Aenys undiscovered spies still lurking around.

As she descended down the razor-sharp rocks of dragonstone(thank the gods for mail gloves), she contemplated going back to her life in the capital.

Being a common servant was not particularly hard, nor dangerous, but it was boring. Thankfully, once she was back home, she could stay with her darling again. After all, all the coin Visenya paid for her services was worthless unless she and her family got to spend it was it not?

Visenya once again took in the map showcasing the seats of power of the faith.

There had been many challenges when it came to keeping this continent together under one crown, but the largest one, and the one that WOULD explode underneath them eventually, was the same one she had advocated to Aegon that they should have burned to the ground from the start.

And now he was gone, and the treat he had refused to deal with was rearing it's ugly head again.

Well, they would deal with it. With fire and blood.

More than anything, that was why Aenys had to die.

Aenys had grown after all these years. He had always been a fool and a craven, but he had never been a simpleton. He had simply lacked a backbone, and the will and courage to get things done without listening to others telling him what he should do.

Now, he had finally grown that spine. And so far he had proven rather remarkable in dealing with the challenges of kingship.

However, being capable and being willing to tear down the religious order to the ground was two different things.

The faith had always been a lurking threat to their dynasty, one that had always refused to accept their ways. They had not dared to oppose them in Aegon's reign, but they would do it now that he was gone. And if they didn't do it in Aenys reign, they would do it in his successors.

That much was guaranteed.

Aenys might not lack for wit, but his heir was a very different story. Prince Aegon was not clever, and like his father had done he often dallied, with the added bonus of stubbornly clinging to his opinion once he made one.

He would make a truly terrible king. And that was not even taking into consideration how young he was.

Viserys was better, but he was second in line, so unless Aegon died, or against the odds Aenys disinherited his heir, he would not take the throne.

Also he was even younger.

What it all added up to was that a ruler capable of eliminating the faith as a power was not forthcoming from the traditional branch of House Targaryen.

Aenys himself had shown no interest in opposing the faith. On the contrary, he was already beginning to appease it.

He had engaged all his sons to the offsprings of his vassals when he had two perfectly fine daughters. She did not need to push deeper to figure out the motive. He was Abandoning their culture and traditions to appease the faith.

She would NOT let that stand.

That meant he would not destroy the faith, like Aegon should have done to begin with, but would kowtow to them instead.

That meant he had to go.

The peace between the crown and the faith had to break, and it had to break violently.

She had always planned to replace Aenys with Maegor, but she had assumed Aenys would instead destroy the relationship with the faith on his own.

Now the opposite seemed true.

He would appease the faith to strengthen his position, abandoning more and more of what made them the blood of the dragon until there was nothing left, and their eyes and hair were as dull and lifeless as the rest of Westeros. It would end with them no longer able even to ride their dragons.

That wasn't going to happen though. Not as long as she was alive.

She would destroy the Faith of the seven to such a degree that would never rise again. And the way to do it was with Maegor on the throne.

HE would not have any hesitance in crushing the faith under his heel.

It was infuriating then, how Aenys had seemingly made that far more difficult than it should have been.

His little scheme with the Dothraki had, as she predicted appealed to Maegor. Far more so than anything else she had ever seen anything do.

That, however, would not have been a problem in the long run if she could have gotten the harroway marriage before he left for the east.

It would have forced a rift between Aenys and the faith, and weakened his position along with enforcing Targaryen values into the future ruling king.

Unfortunately, aenys had offered Maegor a proposal her son loved FAR more than a second wife.

Why he had done it she wasn't sure.

Had he done it prevent the second marriage? To make sure the Targaryens of Dragonstone would have a future given how useless the wife Aegon had chosen for Maegor was? Or had it just been a ploy to win Maegor's loyalty?

She did not know. But given Aenys undiscovered spies, she did not rule out the first alternative.

That had been a massive thorn in her plans. And it had forced her to take more drastic measures in her plans.

Namely, assassination.

A faceless man it would be. She could not risk anything else. And as her contacts had said, they would do it for the meager price of a dragon egg.

Now she just had to wait.

She could not kill Aenys now. That would just mean a stabilizing regency under Stokeworth until Aegon came of age and could fuck things up.

Not to mention that she would not be able to convince Maegor to abandon the upcoming trip east. It was the first time in her life that her son truly had true ambition. And because fate had a sense of humor, that ambition specifically was away from the crown. Literally.

So, it would have to wait until Aegon neared his majority and Maegor was back in Westeros.

She could have made the plan to assassinate stokeworth, and then Aenys, but the unfortunate fact was that she did not know who would be regent. Velaryon would be the most logical choice if there was no hand.

And she herself could not try for the regency. Aenys dying mysteriously, then his aunt swooped in to take reins the reins of power? She would get the blame and be labeled his assassin, and in the worst-case scenario, she could quickly follow Aenys as his family took revenge.

Not to mention that her ultimate goal was to replace him with Maegor. She needed her boy to actually WANT the throne before she took the final step.

She could make that happen. But not while he was far in the east.

That meant waiting until Aegon came of age, and would quickly and without challenge rise to kingship when his father died. Preferably he would quickly sire an heir, so when he had screwed things up with the faith, Maegor's opponent would be an infant.

Well, it was what it was. Not the best plan in the world, but it was a plan, with a clear line of how it would go.

Now she just needed to deal with Aenys spies. Whoever the hell they were.

The king finally left after three damned weeks.

It had been 3 weeks of keeping his temper in check and generally not saying whatever angry thought popped into his head.

Once the king finally said goodbye, he was finally allowed to retire to his solar, along with Maester Barley.

As he poured himself a massive flagon of mead, Barely began going over the expenses of the last few weeks.

"The final expenses were not as bad as we feared it would be."

The king had thankfully not demanded larger feasts than they usually ate at Winterfell. The temperance was in sharp contrast to the extravagant way he dressed.

"We still had to build that damned stable for his dragon."

"Indeed. But that was merely a one time expense. It could have been much worse."

"Except we need to relocate it farther away from the walls, which is going to take manpower the smallfolk could have been using for farming instead."

He supposes he should be grateful to Rickon for showcasing what a terrible idea it had been to build it right up against the second wall, but the boy was still going to spend one more week confined to his room for the stunt of sneaking into a literal dragon den.

It was pure luck and the grace of the gods the beast hadn't discovered and killed him.

"Aye, we need to rebuild it. I'll have a word with Walton about it during your absence."

Absence.

He had absent from Winterfell before. Both as crown prince, a lord's heir and as lord, he had traveled almost the entire north, except skagos and Bear Island.

This was not that though.

This was leaving the North. Leaving Winterfell, leaving his home.

Just so Aenys could tell him about tax reforms that he could have just told him about while he was here, or sent a raven.

But no, he had to travel hundreds of miles just to get together with the other wardens to hear whatever Aenys had to say.

It was an astonishing waste of time that could have been used more productively. There WAS a reason they had ravens after all.

Still. The king's visit could have ended far worse than it did. Thankfully, he had avoided the worst possible outcome, all thanks to good old Warrick.

Gods he loved that man. If he had been a woman, he'd have married him.

Warrick had NOT failed his friend and liege lord in his hour of need.

He had of course dutifully passed on the king's letters to him, but he had also sent a second letter, warning him that Aenys had come north to force another marriage on an unwilling Stark woman.

In this case as a bride for the son. Well, he had not wasted any time. As he had said in the crypts, it really was past time his daughter chose amongst her suitors.

Once he had informed her the king was planning on forcing her to marry and leave the North forevermore, she had thankfully chosen quickly and a speedy wedding had ensured his daughter would not face the same fate as his sister had.

His father had been mocked by the North for all the years he had been a lord.

The King Who Knelt.

It was a title that stung. Yet no biting tongue or mockery about the title had ever stung half as hard as Torrhen Stark "reward" for his loyal service.

After being the Only royal house to kneel willingly their new overlords, house Targaryen had rewarded their new loyalty, by forcing his 9-year-old sister into a marriage against the will of the entirety of House Stark. And not royal marriage, oh no, they got another, BETTER price.

One their own, taken under threat from the North… To Marry the new head of House Arryn.

The only thing that could have been worse would have been if they had forced her to marry an Ironborn.

House Arryn, their age-old enemy across the ocean, the bastards that had invaded the North when the Starks had decided to put an end to the might of the sistermen.

They had ended the regular piracy on the eastern side of the north for good and all, and for that, those bastards from the vale had launched an unjust and pointless war that had lasted a millennium.

Countless thousands of lives had been lost because of the falcons in the Eyrie, deciding they wanted a worthless price rather than letting the Northmen have it.

And to those bastards, Aegon had carted of his sister like a hunting dog sent as a price.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. It had been that bitch Rhaenys who had forced the match. But Aegon had not spoken out against it. He had let it happen, and as far as he was concerned, that meant he was just as responsible for making it happen.

His brothers had talked openly independence, but that much of a fool he was not. There would be no independence from House Targaryen. Not while Dragons yet lived.

So, the only thing they could do, was pay taxes, uphold the law, and hope rather desperately that the dragons would not come north, and leave them to reign in peace.

That hadn't been the case much during Aegon's reign, as he had come several times on expensive royal progresses, draining their coin to feed his entourage. His son, however, had not been interested in making more progresses to the North once Aegon got old for them.

Until he became king and decided out of the blue to come to the north. Not on a progress though. On a dragon.

He did not have to be a fool to see that the king was giving him a reminder of his power.

No words of force would be spoken, but the marriage proposal Aenys would put fort was not a suggestion.

He got the last laugh there though.

So, he had bit his tongue, choked down on his pride, and agreed to the king's new devices. Some did sound rather promising, and according to Barley, the Wunderboat should work in theory.

He really could not care less about the king's devices. If they worked, great, he'd implement them and the North would be better for it. If not, he didn't care.

He had other things about Aenys to care about. Planning to force his daughter into a marriage outside of the North where she would never see her family again was on top of those things, but there were others.

The king forcing him to waste months on a trip south for a chat about taxes and his coronation, wanting to introduce what was undoubtedly more taxes to pay for his war over the stepstones, and of course everything related to his plans for the neck.

That was going to go as wrong anything possibly could. And more likely than not, Aenys was going to kill a lot of his subjects. But he would do as Aenys demanded. Namely, he would follow the king's order to the letter and send a full, detailed explanation of all the king's plans for the Neck to Greywater Watch.

How the Crannogmen reacted to them was their choice.

"My lord?"

"Sorry Barley, I was just… Lost in thought. You're right, of course, I'll need to get everything in order before I go south.

Trying to figure out what the hell Walton's vision was about was one such thing.

As if he did not have enough reasons to not like the King coming to force a match, Walton's visions of a shadowy dragon head constantly swirling around the king wherever he went, also added the fact that the king was a sorcerer unto the reasons not to like him.

He supposed it was somewhat hypocritical to not judge his son for his dreams while condemning the king, but he knew enough about Valyrian magic to know that if Aenys truly was as powerful and deadly as Walton thought he was, he must have sacrificed countless men in dark bloody rituals, just as his ancestors had.

After all, that was what Valyrian sorcery was all about. Sacrificing the blood of men in dark inhuman rituals in exchange for power.

The king's jovial smile hid a dark, brutal reality. He had seen the cracks while talking to the man. The way he was capable of shifting on a dime, from warm and jovial to cold and intense as freezing steel.

He was a dangerous man, Aenys Targaryen.

Aenys famous book "The Way of Kingship" is often held up as a mythical work and guide to good governing, and many attribute the loss of the original book as the point where the "Age of the four good kings" came to an unavoidable and irreversible end.

Others will point out that most of king Maegor's golden rule happened after the book's destruction in 142, not before.

After it's destruction, King Maegor did his best to recreate the book as he recalled it, but by his own admission, there were several chapters he did not take much interest in before the work was lost.

Others were of less important use, like king Aenys fascinatingly detailed(if useless) knowledge of old myths of the North.

Either way, the modern version is a lacking work compared to the original, even amongst what did survive in the recreation it's in many places outdated, it is nonetheless a fascinating look into the text that guided Targaryen policy for almost a century.

Extract from "Lost tomes: The way of Kingship" by Sabrina Oakenshield.

Last edited: Tuesday at 11:58 AM

[ASOIAF SI] An Age of Marvels An Age of Marvels, A Song of Ice and Fire SI story set during the Andal Invasion Era

[Dragon Age AU] Kirkwall - Imperial Destiny Kirkwall Imperial Destiny, A Dragon Age AU set in the Aftermath of the Fifth Blight and Beyond.

[ASOIAF SI] Aenys, King of Dreams A Song of Ice and Fire SI set during the Age of Aenys, Son of Aegon the Conqueror

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Threadmarks Supplementary 3 - Prototype King's Landing Map New

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#259

Supplementary 3 - Prototype King's Landing Map

aenys kings landing

Here's a rough estimation of how my schematics for a rebuilt King's Landing, Stokeworth.

Note that this map is not drawn for scale, nor have i included any of the city gates, other than the River Gate. Needless to say, there is will be more than 7 for this city. i have also not included any of the roads for outside the city, as while the city will be connected with all the major roads, there will also be tons of smaller roads that leads to the city gates.

the city Walls are also not finalized, neither in Design or layout. i have drawn them the way the are, to emphasize the scale which we will be working on. As for the design, we will be using a model more along the lines of the walls ive drawn for the walls of the current city facing the blackwater. The walls will be a set of double walls, with a very deep and wide moat in between them. the outer walls when finished will be roughly 30 meters tall/100 feet, with the internal walls being quite a bit taller. the moat will stretch for 30 feet between each wall.

the large great grey circles will be the water reservoirs of the city. Each will have a large pipe(probably of bronze) that will channel water from lakes to the city, using the power of gravity. Each reservoir will also be used to cleanse said lake water to make sure its fit to be consumed by humans. from each reservoir we will install pipes that will flow under the city gates and under each house, to allow each building to pump water from these pipes using a simple pump(the design for this pump is also added in this letter.). the scaling of the drawing is roughly as large as i have in mind.

underneath the water pipes we will have the sever pipes. like the water pipes, they will use water from the reservoirs, and they will also go under every house. unlike the water pipes, the purpose is to allow each household to simply dump their shit and piss and cleaning water into a chute in each apartment, where the flowing water will carry it away. the sever pipes will then carry the filth, far, far away to a bay in the north of blackwater bay.

each of the red blocks denominates an example of the backbone of the new city. the apartment complex. Essentially a large, rectangular building that stacks several spaces of rooms where a family can comfortably live, on top of each other, all to maximze how many people can live on one spot. the building will keep warm in winter through a hypocaust, a valyrian building technique to pump warm air through hollow walls. we will be substituting hot air from logs, to hot air and smoke from coal, but the prinicple is the same. as i noted earlier, neither these buildings or roads, are drawn with scale in mind, merely to illustrate the full scope of the inner parts of the city, as well as to highlight the grid systems this city will be built around. many of the buildings illistrated in red, will be things such as universities, factories(which is what will replace the smithies as i have detailed in the orders for steel working), shops, baths, saloons, pubs, and so on and so on.

However, each of the common buildings will be using the same space of building area as the Apartment complexes, if not the internal design. this is in order to make sure the grid system will be enforced to the maximum of its potential. shops will thusly be located within a larger complex for example, given how few shops would cover the same space as an apartment building. Again, these buildings will not share the internal design of the apartment buildings given how their goal is to house shops, not to maximize living space. name for these shops to be determined later.

The south part of the city on the other side of the blackwater, is also completely hypotetical at the moment, and is simply there is illustrate the scale of the internal parts of the city. the only structure i plan to actually keep for this draft is a fortress on the northern tip along the mouth of the blackwater, but that is for another time.

The great white rectangle will be known as the Black Yard. it will be an internal smaller fortress inside the city, to serve as the headquarters of the army. drawn to scale.

the smaller rectangle will be known as the Tower, other than knowing how large a space it will take, it is not important to discuss at the current date. dawn to scale.

The black circle where the Sept of remembrance currently stands will be a construct know as the dragon pit. the stable in which we will house our dragons. it will be an amphiteather like construct with an open ceiling and a lot of stables to house more unruly dragons. dragons who are non agressive and can be trusted not to attack livestock or men will be allowed open leave of the stables. dragons who cannot, will be kept here with steel chains and behind thick steel doors. Drawn to scale.

The multicoloured star will be the sept of Westeros, the largest religious building in the world. Eventually the Faith shall relocate to this building, and it will serve as the center of our religion. Drawn to scale.

The Brown rectangle to the north of the city will be the Sport Grounds of the Capital. at the moment, that will mean that it will serve as the center for jousting and tourneys. I have other more grandiose plans for the Area, which will involve all of westeros eventually, but that is a matter not relevant for the moment. Drawn for scale.

the Red Fortress is covered in its own seperate papers and explanation, also included in this letter. Drawn to scale

finally, regarding the city, i need to emphazise that this merely the inner part of the city. the city will gron beyond its new set of walls eventually, and prefferably, the city will continue to use the grid system for the next part of the city.

as i have no doubt you are worried about coin to pay for all of this, i shall finish on the reasuring note that unlike my other projects, this one will not have to be finished in all haste. Other than The red Fortress and the reservoirs, do not begin to start work on anything else. we will discuss the rest of the city works when i return to the capital. for the the moment, focus on the Red Fortress, laying water pipes, and above everything else, the Steam Hammers. i expect some Results on those when i return home.

Your King and Friend, Aenys Targaryen.


	10. umbrusshade1

Jul 14, 2018

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Umbrus Shade, The Incredibly Annoyed Ravenclaw [Harry Potter/SI]

Prologue

It all began with a dark room, a hooting owl, and a letter in front of me.

The room had no features I could parse. The owl was motley brown. The letter looked handwritten in a really difficult cursive. My room was gone. My surroundings were gone. The letter itself glowed with a light of its own, and the contents seemed to shift under my sight.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Umbrus,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

The letter had also something written on its back; it was the list of provisions. Something dreadfully heavy settled at the bottom of my stomach. This couldn't be what I thought it was, could it? Perhaps an alien race had kidnapped me. It would explain the dark room. Maybe I was in a coma. That too was an acceptable solution. My surroundings shifted, the darkness leaving the place to blurs and to forms.

They took on clearer shapes a bit at the time, revealing figures moving back and forth on rails. In front of me, a luggage on wheels with my stuff rested. An owl hooted from its perch, staring right at me with an inquisitive glance. I looked around, seeing no familiar figures. There was little I could do, but swallow my nervousness and walk towards the platform I still remembered would lead on the way to Hogwarts' train.

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was hidden within a pillar, and as I walked through it, my eyes closed by reflex, I came out in a realm of robes and strange hat-wearing people. I had no cellphone in my pockets. I had no Ipod. I had a wand, actually, a shiny dark thing that was probably twelve to thirteen inches in length. It was a bit hard to hide the thing, and I could feel it poke against my sides, strapped to the left side of my chest in a wand-holder reminiscing of a revolver's holster.

There were families tearfully waving goodbye to their sons and daughters, some with more emphasis than others. I simply pulled my luggage on the train without a word.

"I am a wizard," I muttered. Then, I realized that pulling the luggage up was more of a challenge than previously thought, and the sinking feeling in my guts materialized even further.

Shit.

I was an eleven year old kid. My height was gone, my strength too, and all I had was a lousy wand and stuff I had no idea how it had made its way into my possession. This looked every bit like a coma-induced feverish dream. Perhaps I shouldn't have eaten whatever I ate the night before. What was it again? It was a pizza. No, pizzas couldn't be so evil as to give me such vivid and vibrant nightmares.

Thus, I climbed on while quietly cursing my weak self. I settled in the first carriage I could find, since I needed more than one trip to empty the trolley on which my luggage rested. By the time I was done, I sighed and slumped against the creaking armchair.

I yawned, not out of tiredness, but out of nervousness. There had to be a mistake. I couldn't be a wizard. The wand I pulled out from my wand holster felt warm in my hand, my children finger looked so eerie compared to what I was used to. Still, as I swished the wand back and forth, I expected something to happen. Well, no, I expected nothing to happen. I was rewarded with some sparks instead. They fluttered about, wheezing out of the tip of my wand in a myriad of pretty colors. I offhandedly mused about the colors of the sparks, watching them range from crimson to green, then through blue, violet, mauve and as I thought about it, they changed into yellow too.

There was no muscle-pulling involved, no strange back-end feeling. It was bizarre. I couldn't feel some kind of magical mana resource, or some form of twirling warmth in my chest. There was literally nothing telling me I was depleting mana, or that magic had a cost of some sorts. I should have felt more excited. I could do magic. At the same time, that feeling of elation was dulled by the sheer weight of the situation at hand.

What the hell was I doing in the Harry Potter world? Why was I even here? What was the point? Hell, if I had been born in the world, I could at the very least come up with some chalked up shitty explanation like parallel worlds existing; you die, you get reborn in another world. Rinse and repeat enough times, you're bound to become a genetic defect where you keep the memories of your past life.

It was a shitty explanation for something that couldn't really be explained, but it would make more sense than me appearing in a dark room in my eleven year old form. This felt like I had been placed in such a situation. Magic did it seemed the most viable answer, but if magic 'did it' then I had to ask myself why it did such a thing.

The train car's door swung open as some unknown students filtered in, and I quietly sheathed my wand once more, ashamedly looking at the window without a second thought. The students began to animatedly chat about their lessons, transfiguration with McGonagall, their hate for potions with professor Snape, the amount of work with Charms...and I couldn't help but ask.

"I'm sorry," I said, catching the trio of older students' attention, "I heard about Defense Against the Dark Art having a different professor every year...who's the one this year?"

"Ah," one of the older students said, his tie marking him as a Hufflepuff. "It's Professor Quirrell. He used to do Muggle Studies," he grinned. "He's a nice professor."

Good, then I was in the year of the lord one thousand nine hundred ninety-one. The year in which Harry Potter frequented Hogwarts. The year in which the Philosopher Stone was at Hogwarts. The year in which Voldemort was at Hogwarts.

It was going to be a nice year, as long as I kept my head low and did absolutely frigging nothing.

It eased me a bit to know that I hadn't been thrown in a random year, in a random setting, in a random parallel world.

"You're a first year, so you have it easy," the older Hufflepuff said. "There's a lot of hard work once you hit the electives," he added. "Enjoy your school life while you still can."

I will, filler-type character. I swear I will. "I'll do my best," I answered in turn. "What are the professors like?" I asked next.

It wouldn't do to grow quiet and keep my gaze centered at the sights beyond the train car's window. If I socialized, at the very least I'd be able to learn more about things, and maybe even catch stuff that I had once read, and that I didn't remember any longer. It had been years, perhaps even decades, since I had last read the books.

Still, the hours passed in relative peace. I even pulled out one of the school books to get a head start, but closed it after no more than half an hour, a dull headache from reading while in movement the main cause. With a dreary sigh, I closed my eyes and rested.

I was woken up by the rattling of the door, a blond figure popping in briefly, glancing around, and then looking at me for the briefest of instants. "I am looking for Harry Potter."

"I lack a scar on my forehead," I replied, pointing at my pristine and clear forehead. The blond sneered, and then left.

"Oh yeah, Harry Potter's supposed to be on the train!" another of the older years said with a gush to his voice. "The Boy-Who-Lived! He'll definitely be a Gryffindor." The fact the teen's tie had the colors of Gryffindor meant that his judgment was clearly biased, but it was also the truth, though he wouldn't know it.

I grew quiet, until at a certain point the older students began to shift into their robes, and I did the same with mine. "You can leave the luggage on the train," one of the older students told me, "They'll send the house elves to fetch them."

I nodded and thanked him.

Then, I stepped outside to face the chilly September month of Scotland and the cold, freezing waters of the Hogwarts' lake upon a boat.

The castle's lights in the far off distance glittered, giving it a very magical appearance.

The cold wind biting into my skin dug deep into my chest, however.

The malaise clung to me like a shroud, the stomach bottomed at my feet.

Congratulations, Shade Umbrus...

...you have become a wizard, destroyer of physics.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

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Chapter One

There were a lot of stairs at Hogwarts. Climbing them from the bottom of the castle, where the pier was, was no easy task for an eleven year old. I cursed myself. I also cursed the lack of lifts, or automated stairways. Still, headmistress McGonagall made us wait by the stairs, while the whispers on what we'd have to do ran rampant across the many first years.

I knew it was going to be a hat.

It was going to be a talking hat, who'd select the place he believed we'd do best in, but would also comply to what we wished for.

Slytherin was out. Gryffindor too. I could find myself at home both in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, if I said so myself. Hufflepuff would have lots of delicious food, and friendly people, but if I wanted to survive through the battle at Hogwarts, I needed skills. Skills that only secret libraries could give me. Skills that only a Ravenclaw could learn. Skills used not to enter the thick of battle, but stay the hell away from it.

Yes, my plan was to survive. Though it could all become moot the moment I found Albus Dumbledore's office password and spoke to the headmaster about everything I knew. He'd do something about it. It wasn't like this was a world where Evil-Manipulative-Dark-Dumbledore lived. This looked pretty much the canon-world. At least, there was a Harry Potter, a red-haired Ron Weasley, a Neville Longbottom, a Hermione Granger, and many other. They weren't immediately noticeable, because they didn't look like the actors, but like their book-selves.

"They say we have to fight a troll," someone whispered in front of me.

"It's a hat," I snorted back. "A talking hat."

"Yeah," another student muttered by my side. "I hope the troll doesn't stink too much."

I glanced at the student, and then sighed. Here I was, being my shy, meek wallflower-self once more. Still, we didn't have to wait for much longer, as McGonagall called us into the main dining room and made us stand in a line in front of a stool, on which the talking hat rested.

It was the sorting hat, and I had forgotten how it broke out in song. It began in earnest, telling the main points of the houses and how we shouldn't fear. Still, as my surname was apparently Umbrus, I would go after Harry Potter. This meant I wasn't even in the purvey of the book's written pages, since from what I vaguely recalled, after Potter the only other mention was when the last one was called.

So the hall grew all quiet and nervous as Harry Potter in his childish eleven year old form marched and sat on the stool, plopping the sorting hat on its head. The boy whispered something, and the hat took a bit of a time. In the end, Gryffindor was where he ended, and the timeline was secured.

Was I perhaps an agent of the timeline?

Was I a guy sent from the future for the benefit of wizardkind? Secret Agent Shade, saving time and space one mission at a time?

"Umbrus, Shade," as it was my turn, I answered and valiantly walked forward, gingerly grabbing hold of the hat and putting it on.

Ravenclaw-Ravenclaw-Ravenclaw-Ravenclaw-Ravenclaw.

You have the potential to become the greatest of Slytherins. You have the ability, the skill, the wisdom of someone that can make great waves in the world. Are you sure you wish to go amidst dusty books?

Those are magic books we're talking of, sir! Is there anything more interesting than those in this world?

In Slytherin, you could acquire the power in order to read even the most secret of tomes.

But if I'm not a Ravenclaw, I wouldn't understand half of what they'd have written in them, sir. Please put me in Ravenclaw? I'll buy you some leather-softener? Or maybe you'd rather want some...

Shush before I change my mind and send you into Slytherin, you sly snake in a raven's nest! Fine! Since you insist so much, and because I fear what you'd do if I left you among those poor little snakes, you're going to have to be...

"RAVENCLAW!"

The hat roared it, and as I removed it and ran towards the table in question, there were good and friendly cheers. I belatedly noticed that my tie and robes had changed their colors to match those of my house. It was a bit of silent magic that someone, perhaps McGonagall, did on the fly as each student was nominated into their houses. Or perhaps it was the house elves. It could be either, but it didn't matter.

I was positively famished, and I hoped that the delicacies shown in the movies would at least be reflected in this reality.

As the last name was called, and Dumbledore said his words, food appeared in front of us all. The rules of engagement were clear on the matter. Every student must eat for themselves; every fork is a weapon, every knife a shield. Kill the enemy that impounds on your food, ravage the plates of your foes if you have none. This is the land of cutthroat food business, where no adult comes by to give you your portion, so you must make your own.

It was a world I knew intrinsically well. The reason I was the fastest eater this side of the continent was because in children, nothing is sacred, not even personal plate-space. If they lack in food, they will take it from your plate. So you can either stab them, or ensure you eat it faster than they can take it away.

After you've eaten your fill, you can engage in pleasant conversations.

Since I had achieved overwhelming victory over my nearby neighbors, I felt happy enough to actually start to listen to what they were saying to one another.

Some of the first years looked traumatized by my innate ability in acquiring and devouring food, but it was not my fault. Also, apparently the plates refilled if empty. This meant I didn't actually need to go gung-ho on getting everything. I could have taken my time. As it was, I reckoned they learned not to bother me while eating.

Tiny flying birds made of paper sailed in the air, landing in front of us first years after a short while. They unfolded like magical origami, and delivered our timetable.

Interestingly enough, we would have a Charms lesson, followed by a Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and a double Potions lesson to end the day with a big bang. Perhaps even literally, depending on circumstances. Since Harry and Draco shared classrooms, it was clear that we'd have the Hufflepuffs.

I couldn't remember half a name from the Hufflepuff class. Maybe a Zacharias, perhaps, or a Susan and a Hannah. An Anthony Goldstein and a Turpin-something in Ravenclaw and...I drew blanks. Well, my lacking knowledge not-withstanding, it was clear that their names would be discovered eventually.

True to form, I shared a room with a certain Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot.

I grinned at them. "Let's all get along."

They smiled back, and I knew all would be right in the world.

Learning magic the next day though...

...would prove to be anything but an easy walk in the park.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

My Amazon Book Page. My Smashwords Book Page. UBL For The Investigator and the Case of the Missing Brain. UBL for The Race. UBL for The Investigator and the Fury of the Fog. UBL for Prim and Proper. UBL for I, Master.

My . Since people kept asking. I'll keep writing wherever and whenever, but if you want to feel like one of the coffees I drink is offered by you, feel free.

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Chapter Two

Wingardium Leviosa was not a spell for the faint of heart. Had we begun with that, I might have understood my reasonable frustration. Instead, we began with an even simpler spell. One that came naturally, and was merely an extension of a wizard's naturally ability to make sparks fly from the tip of one's wand. The Lumos spell was quite a simple twirl of the wand. At least, Professor Flitwick had assured it, and quite a few Ravenclaw had gotten it at the first try, just as much as the Hufflepuffs had.

"Lumos," I muttered for the umpteenth time, glancing at the slightly shiny tip of my wand. I was doing something to it, clearly, but it wasn't working as well as I intended it to. At most, I had a midnight light's glow of worth, while the others ranged from vibrant colors to bright torches.

"Lumos," I insisted, the light glowing a bit stronger. I glanced at the wizard doing the movements on the spellbook. The flick of the wrist, the little twirl, they all made sense in retrospect, but I couldn't manage to get the movement down just right. If I had, I'd be shining along with the rest of the class wouldn't I? Still, as I glanced past the wizard's movement and into the spell's description itself -and the horrendous cursive writings used, seriously, would it kill them to invest in a printer?- I read a passage that left me puzzled.

The longer the spell is charged, the brighter the light. A wizard's ability to naturally select the most appropriate of glows for the right setting varies based on their control of their magic.

How did one even go about charging spells? They didn't work on a mana system!

I could try to maybe scrunch my eyebrows, put effort in as if I had to go to the loo, think really hard about it, and then... "Lumos!" and a shining, dazzling, lightsaber's worth of crimson light shone from the tip of my wand with such a bright intensity that I actually let go of the wand and clutched my eyes, which teared up from the abrupt change in luminosity.

"Who did that!?" Filius yelled as I whimpered softly, massaging my eyes. "Mister Umbrus? Are you all right'"

"I'm fine," I muttered, "My eyes sting," I added as I kept them closed, massaging them ever so slightly with the palm of my hands.

"I suppose they would," Professor Flitwick's voice came through, "That was quite the strong Lumos spell, perhaps tone it down a little. Five points to Ravenclaw, for such a...brilliance." There were a few cheers from Ravenclaw's side. I spend most of the remaining lesson rubbing my eyes and trying to get the image of the crimson wand out of my seared retinas.

I quietly accepted that my next lesson would be spent with my nose in my book to better read. At the same time, it was also a successful survival strategy against Voldemort's mind-reading abilities. Professor Quirrell wouldn't read my mind without reason, but I couldn't discount Voldemort being paranoid enough to try to gather all information on Harry Potter that he could manage to, even from the first years.

At least, if I were a paranoid overlord I'd rip the minds of everyone around me to ensure no detail eluded me, and since he was stuck on the back of Quirrell's head, it wasn't like he had the ability to do much else.

Thus, no eye-contact, and nose in the book. Quirinus Quirrell had also been a Ravenclaw, and while it didn't show, he did give Ravenclaw five more points on average than he did the Hufflepuffs. Though nobody took offense to that. We were the ones asked to suffer through a half-hour long question before giving a one minute long answer.

I groaned as the lesson dealt mainly in the theoretical applications of magic. My eyes had barely recovered from the previous lesson, but still there I was, trying to decipher the unknown words.

The Gnome is a cowon? Common gardn...garden, pest. I'd eventually get used to it, but seriously, this couldn't stand.

I had a priority. I had to find a spell that turned words from cursive into something far more readable. Hell, I would be fine with a magical typewriter you could feed books to in order to get the equivalent back in something other than cursive. This was the kind of cursive that was all flowery and twirly, and it made it doubly hard to read through.

The age of machines needed to arrive to Hogwarts on the double, and if not the computers, at the very least the industrial revolution of typewriters!

"Damn it," Anthony Goldstein grunted, "DADA lessons are going to be headaches."

"W-W-Why w-w-would you say th-that, An-Anthony!?" Michael Corner answered, mocking the professor.

The morning lessons were done for the day, and thus it was time for the lunch break. "Professor Flitwick gave us three feet long homework," Terry Boot groaned in turn. "The older years said he was a good professor, but they didn't mention how much homework he'd give."

"We have until Wednesday to do it too," I added, vaguely recalling the timetable, "It's when we have our next lesson with him."

"We can get the homework started this afternoon and finish it tomorrow," Anthony Goldstein suggested. "Might be a good chance to look at the school library."

That was a great idea, and was going to be my plan too for the afternoon. It wouldn't hurt to follow a group and act all social and stuff. I also had to get a list of wizardly sweets from a book and find out the one used as a password for Dumbledore's office.

Maybe, once I had spoken with the headmaster, I could finally get a great weight off my chest.

Potions, double-potions, meant cauldron usage. Single hours were meant for theory, and double hours for practical. Our first lesson dealt, as an exception to the norm, with everything related to cauldron safety delivered with such a drawl and a scathing glare that it made everyone shrink away from the cauldrons as if they would chop their hands off if they as much as dared breathe wrongly in front of them.

"Now who can tell me the properties of a bezoar?" he asked, "Which of you dunderheads has actually read the book? Which has a modicum of brain matter into his skull?"

Some Ravenclaws actually raised their hands, and thus Severus Snape picked a random Hufflepuff who had done its very best to shrink from the glare sent its way. "Miss Abbott?"

"I-I," there was the thinnest of voices coming out from the girl, and nothing more.

"I suppose ten points from Hufflepuff," Professor Snape said, quite coldly. He then turned and looked straight at me. I stared back, with the most tranquil of expressions. "Mister Umbrus?"

"The bezoar's a natural remedy against poisoning of all kinds, found in the stomach of a goat-"

"Enough of your blabbering," Professor Snape said curtly, "We will now practice scrubbing the cauldrons to perfection, a much needed skills for those of you who will never amount to much more than muck-cleaners."

I had to give it to him, as he waved his wand and made all of our cauldrons dirty like hell...

...he just knew how to make someone hate him as if he were the angry Cinderella step-mother.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

My Amazon Book Page. My Smashwords Book Page. UBL For The Investigator and the Case of the Missing Brain. UBL for The Race. UBL for The Investigator and the Fury of the Fog. UBL for Prim and Proper. UBL for I, Master.

My . Since people kept asking. I'll keep writing wherever and whenever, but if you want to feel like one of the coffees I drink is offered by you, feel free.

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#26

Chapter Three

The library was big. No, to say it was big would be an understatement. The library was massive. It was some kind of eidolon to the prowess of writing books, some kind of monolith of knowledge and information, a veritable trove of discoveries and arcane theories and...

They had twenty copies, in various editions, of how to pet birds magically. The books were written by a certain Scroogey MacDucky, some local celebrity for a bird sightseeing club in the wilderness of Scotland, and who had won international acclaim for discovering a magical bird of some kind in the lost jungles of South America.

This was the kind of world I had forgotten existed in the realm of Harry Potter, and which I was now confronted with.

"What is this library's filing system?" I muttered, glancing at the absurdity of a non-alphabetical order, and a non-printing one. How were the books even ordered? By whim and fate? No, perhaps it didn't matter. If you knew the Accio spell, you could get the book yourself. If you didn't know it, then you were too young to loan a book without the help of the librarian to begin with.

This still didn't help me. The fluttering of wings caught my attention after a few more minutes, and I dimly realized there weren't birds flying about, but books. Heavy tomes fluttered back into their places, some even going as far as butting spines against others in order to claim a high enough place.

The books had a pecking order.

"This place needs a centralized database, and a flamethrower," I muttered in disbelief. "Perhaps not in that order either."

Still, I found the book I had been looking for on the bottom shelf, and thus returned to the library table. The other students had already long since gone to explore more of Hogwarts, but I couldn't do that. I had to do very important work for the glory of a beautiful future filled with lack of murder, lack of Voldemort, and a general lack of everything and everyone seeking to kill me by association with the school of Hogwarts.

Magical Confectioneries and You, a Guide by Sweetie Toothie

I moved to the index, only to find it empty of the key terms I hoped to find in order to make my research swifter. Of course, the book didn't have an index. Wizards denied the scientific method any chance of existence, so how could they even think that giving books indexes with key words would be in any way a great idea? The book's author proved to be merciful, in that they had a list of the chapters at the beginning, which encompassed the general tastes, ranging from Sweet to Sour, from Pungent to Noxious and even reaching into Absolutely Amoral to Eat-levels.

Thus, it was absolutely useless.

On the plus side, Icelandic wizards enjoyed making Seal Jelly. It apparently tasted really sweet, and was also placed in the chapter entitled The Absolutely Amoral to Eat.

Thus, I scribbled. As the hours passed, I scribbled on and on with a quill that threatened to break from the pressure applied. I wouldn't be done in a single day, that much was sure. Still, I had made great progress. Dinner awaited me, and if I could just get the book on a loan...

"No book shall ever leave this library for as long as I live," Madam Pince answered quite airily, wrinkled her nose a bit, and the book in my hands flew off to return among each brethren up in the sky.

"Can't you just put some kind of charm to keep them always in pristine conditions? Like a Reparo charm or something like that?" I hazarded. Madam Pince huffed, and flicked her wand in my direction. I was literally hunted out of the library by my bag, which tried to eat my head off with its dull buckles.

Sure, from an outsider point of view it might look like something funny, or perhaps by an extremely serious viewpoint, as something quite abusive, but I reckoned the truth stood in the middle. It was normal for wizards to use magic, and it was normal for wizard children to survive extreme odds. Neville's uncle being a shining example of it, I reckoned that since jinx and curses could be survived with magic and potions...the levels needed to get on the 'child abuse' scale had to be quite higher than the norm, at least for what concerned physical punishments of the kind.

Also, the buckles didn't try to eat my eyes to begin with, so clearly they were sympathetic, and it wasn't the Stockholm Syndrome speaking to me through the lens of a scared eleven year old.

Still, I was going to learn how to counter spells. I was going to learn how to do so many things that by the time I was done, I'd challenge anyone to turn my cauldron into muck or let books fly off my grasp. I was going to become the very best, like no wizard ever was. If Tom Riddle could make Horcruxes at his fourth year of Hogwarts, or perhaps was it the Sixth, then I could damn well make incredible progress by the end of the first year.

Transfiguration lessons, the morning after, disproved my theory that wisdom and intention were all one needed.

For not mere mathematics, but bonking-bonkers-mathematics had appeared. Well, I didn't as much as flinch when McGonagall turned from a cat into a human, but that was the only positive sight of the day. My transfiguration theory was good enough, I reckoned, but my practice absolutely worthless. It wasn't the need to do calculations that killed me, but the fact that the calculations resulted inherently wrong into my head.

It was like trying to quickly add five and a cat, in order to obtain a silver cup. Only five was to be summed from a pear tree and a chihuahua, and cat came as the natural result of seven times seven. It was madness. It was Lovecraftian-levels of madness.

You are all dead to me. You hear me, Wizardry-Mathematics? You die. You die painfully. I will find whoever decided to use you in such a way, kill them very slowly, and ensure their screams are heard through the weave of history!

"Remember that distractions and frustration can prove to be the undoing of an otherwise flawless incantation and wand movement," Professor McGonagall said curtly, walking past us. "Excellent job, Miss Bones, ten points to Hufflepuff."

I, in the meantime, was staring daggers at the wooden thing I had to turn into a needle.

Stick, you met your match. That's why they call you a matchstick. Horrendous puns aside, I needed a way through.

Transfiguration sounded extremely cool. It also didn't require much in the way of words. However, it was also extremely difficult. I could daydream about summoning forth glittering daggers, change the landscape and cause earthquakes, but the reality was that I couldn't even turn a matchstick into a needle.

All right, I needed to face this mathematically, and in the wonkiest way possible.

The body weight of the matchstick and the viciousness are both factors on one side of the equation, and are by logic countered by the wand power and the concentration of the wizard. The fifth unknown factor must be the amount of energy required to force atoms to change at a subatomic level, or maybe it's chemistry and we're dealing with moles? No, concentrate on the math and act like a wizard would. You are a stupid wizard. You are so stupid, you use magic for everything. So what happens when a door doesn't open?

You throw more magic at it until it does.

It's simple, sweet, and works.

I swished my wand, scrunched my eyebrows, and then touched the tip of the matchstick while trying to imagine myself pouring every atom of concentration I could into turning the matchstick into a needle.

It exploded.

It exploded with such deadly, shrapnel precision that I ended up with metallic shards pulled out of my chest in the next fifteen minutes.

"Transfiguration always makes a victim among the first years," the kind nurse-lady said as I sucked on a candy, while she finished removing the shards from my chest.

McGonagall had been impressed enough that she had given me ten points, but had taken fifteen away for endangering the nearby students.

It was not my fault the matchstick refused to cooperate.

Still, I couldn't help but be inherently pleased.

The laws of physics had won the day, after all.

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Chapter Four

Herbology was a double-rated level of nightmare. Apparently, allergies carried over. Allergies to plants were one thing, but being allergic to magical plants was on a level all of its own. My eyes burned and teared up repeatedly throughout the lesson, even though the greenhouse themselves didn't seem to contain much in the way of pollen, it was pretty clear I'd have it bad when Spring came around.

"Oh dearie, it must be Puffapod allergy," Professor Pomona Sprout was actually quite kind about it. My ordeal wasn't an unfamiliar one, apparently. "Let's see if this helps you a bit," she added, swishing her wand in front of my face. She had the looks of a gentle matron, and clearly, she was a saint when compared to everyone else. No wonders she was the head of house Hufflepuff; the good guys par excellence. I ended up with my head inside a bubble of air. A bubble of fresh, clean, pollen-free air that made me breathe like nothing ever made me breathe before.

"Just come to me if the air gets too bad or the bubble pops," Professor Sprout added with a gentle smile. "I'll fix you with a fresher bubble-head charm."

"Thank you professor," I said with all of my heart poured into it. I'd give the woman my coffee collection, if only I had any to give. She was a saint. I returned to my spot with the bubble around my head, happy to finally be able to breathe. Though seeing things through the bubble was slightly complicated, it was still a way better solution than having my eyes constantly in tears.

"Let us continue our lesson on the properties of the Asphodel, both magical and non-magical," Professor Sprout said cheerfully. Her lessons were theoretical at first, but we'd soon need to use our gloves eventually, and manage fertilizer of the dung-kind.

With my air flow secured, I had little trouble following the lessons, and even less taking notes. Sure, the air grew stale after a while, but as soon as the bubble popped, Professor Sprout quickly applied another without as much as stopping her lesson. She had grown accustomed to it, apparently. Maybe there had been quite the amount of students sneezing in her greenhouses, and with this charm, she had managed to keep them from dying.

I didn't put it past the school to persist even in the face of adversities as some way of 'forming the character'. I mean, physical punishment was still functioning with the past headmaster, if I didn't remember it wrong. Even Filch commented about it!

Lunch break went by uneventfully. I barely noticed the presence of my classmates by then. It wasn't that I didn't exchange words with them, but I knew little to nothing about Quidditch championships, and I had no Chocolate Frog cards to exchange. Also, as much as I would have loved to socialize, it felt awkward. These were eleven year old. I could probably feel more at ease among the last years than the firsties.

Still, lunch went by uneventfully.

I had prepared for the next lesson. The timetable did not lie, and Professor Binns appeared punctually like a clock in our assigned classroom. I glanced briefly at the light of interest for the history of the wizardry world die in the eyes of my fellow classmates, and then proceeded to pull out my own interests. I kept scribbling for my Transfiguration homework, utterly ignoring the lesson at hand.

By the time the lesson ended, I had pretty much finished my homework.

The last lesson of the day required our presence in the dungeons, for a theoretical lesson that dealt in the most common antidotes and means to cure boils and every single potential hazard we may find ourselves suffering due to our dunderhead-status.

"What would you apply to a burn, Mister Finch-Fletchley?" Professor Snape asked with the same kindness he would ask a dying horse to bring its head near the gun.

"A burn-healing potion?" Mister Finch-Fletchley hazarded. Professor Snape scowled, and then turned its eyes towards me.

"Mister Umbrus?" he asked with the same voice he would ask a man sent to his execution. Unfortunately for him, I knew his kind and had thus proceeded to read the chapters ahead. Not only had I done that, I had also quickly skimmed to the pages dealing with healing potions while he had queried Finch-Fletchley, and read through them quickly.

"An essence of Dittany to make the skin heal, a Wiggenweld Potion, a Burn-Healing paste if the burn is quite severe, but if the wound has already formed boils then a boil-healing concoction made with dried nettle and-" as I spoke with the calm serenity of someone who knew he wouldn't be killed, I couldn't help but look at the sternness of Professor Snape's gaze redirect itself to the further shrinking Hufflepuff.

"Enough," Professor Snape said curtly. He did not give nor take points for my correct answer, especially since we weren't Slytherin. At the same time, he let us be. He seemed to take a perverse pleasure in attacking the weak links of the Hufflepuffs, though. "As it seems the answers were multiple and clear enough, I will take ten points from Hufflepuff for each of those solutions."

I had just taken forty points away from Hufflepuff. I quietly glanced at their side of the classroom, and balked at some of the stares they sent my way. It wasn't my fault professor Snape took a vindictive pleasure in destroying all chances of cooperation between our houses! He knew that by dividing us, he'd have an easier time winning the cup for the Slytherin.

I left the class in a hurry as soon as we were dismissed. I didn't want to stick around and risk getting jinxed by pissed-off Hufflepuffs, and thus rushed for the only place that would give me solace. The library welcomed me, with its fluttering books and its stern-looking librarian. I knew where to go though, so I did not disturb her. The book of sweets rested in the same spot, and when it saw me near it had the galls to try to flutter away.

I jumped, grabbing hold of it and bringing it down. "Stay still or I swear I will incendio your ass once I learn that spell," I growled in a threatening whisper, making the book flutter to a stop in my hands. "Good book," I snorted at it, bringing it to a nearby table and starting to scribble down on my list the remaining sweets.

I was ready to challenge the Gargoyle, but something stopped me. What if the sweets were Muggle-sweets? I'd need to make a list of those too. Stuff like Treacle Tart and Honey Pies may just as well make the list too, as well as the different flavors of jelly beans.

I stared at my list, and then decided to try with it first. If it didn't work, I'd move on to the muggle ones.

The Gargoyle looked at me with an uncaring attitude as I came to a halt in front of it. Finding the headmaster's office hadn't been that difficult, the portraits themselves quite willing to help.

I coughed to clear my voice, and then I began reciting the list.

My plan was flawless, now that I thought about it. I could either guess the password, or wait until he actually left his office to go eat. In both cases, I'd be able to catch him alone.

Clearly, what was it about the best laid plan?

"Oh look Gred, an ickle firsty!"

That they fail to account for the wildcard of the enemy.

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#39

Chapter Five

The Weasley Twins.

A more wretched hive of scum and villainy I would never find.

I had to be cautious. Obi-Wan Kenobi would have spoken the truth, for I had no choice but to retreat. What was a first year student going to do when pelted with dung bombs and jinxes that made one's nose run? I literally stumbled on my own copious mucus as I made my way down the stairs to the infirmary, much to my embarrassment and the general laughter of the students nearby.

The Weasley Twins were merciful enough not to pursue me, but that was where their mercy ended.

The kind nurse managed to get it all off. My annoyance, on the other hand, grew tenfold. Sure, they were kids. Sure, they had pranked me with the same ease they would prank someone else. The only thing that annoyed me was that I hadn't been ready for them. Where was the cool, professional response of sending silent, motionless magic their way to set off the dung bombs in their hands? Were was the cool Wise-Smart-Edgy-Chosen of the Fae-kind of stuff that made everything appear peachy and rosy-tinted?

It was nowhere to be found, and I had to go down more than six flights of stairs with dung in my hair and dripping mucus everywhere.

Still, this was merely a setback. A setback I would resolve by the next day, if things worked properly. The Ravenclaws had the Wednesday mornings free, and I'd be using it to finish my list, get a talk with Dumbledore ongoing and perhaps solve the most dangerous of all problems of this year at Hogwarts, and of the next ones.

Since the Weasley twins were roaming the hallways, and since I had little hope of actually defeating them, I had no choice but to learn by myself the skills needed to face them off. First, I needed some form of deflecting spell, and then something to send them flying. Yes, those were two essential spells in the arsenal of any would-be Merlin, but as things were, turning theory into practice proved to be quite different from what I had hoped.

Thankfully, I remembered where the Room of Requirements rested. It was one of the few tidbits I remembered vividly from the books. In front of a tapestry of dancing trolls, I'd need to walk in front of the opposite wall thrice wishing desperately for a place to study, and train. The Room of Requirements would provide it; and now that I thought about it, I could also shatter the knees of one of Malfoy's dark future-plans by destroying the broken cabinet in the room of lost objects. In order to do that, though, I'd need a spell that destroyed furniture.

The Diadem rested in the room too, but it being a Horcrux, I wouldn't be touching it with a ten foot pole.

There were people who would grab a pair of gloves and shove the Horcrux right down Dumbledore's throat, but I had time. I had an entire year, and perhaps even more, before it became necessary to do such things. Thus, I could plan a bit on the longer term.

The Room of Requirement presented me with a room that held a chair, a desk, and a straw mannequin in the distance. On the desk were a set of materials, ranging from needles to buttons. Clearly, those were for transfiguration practice. There were some books on a set of shelves by the wall, but they all looked like the kind the students had lost through the ages.

There were some old editions, but nothing peculiarly out of place. A cauldron in a corner, a hour-glass nearby, and a strange clock ticking away on the wall by the door.

"Thank you," I said. Though the room didn't answer me, nor did it give off any hint of being pleased, I still thanked the room for giving me an oasis to myself.

Thus, I stepped inside, locked the door behind him, and then proceeded to scream.

I screamed and yelled and roared. I shrieked so high I reckoned I would have made the glass shatter if it hadn't been magical glass. I swung my hands against the mannequin, punching it repeatedly and slamming my head against its straw chest more than once.

It smelled faintly of hay, and I barely noticed it as I bit down on my knuckles and turned away, taking deep breathes.

"We are in the Harry Potter world!" I snarled, roaring it to the heavens. "Logic does not work! Wizards lack common sense! Babies bounce off streets!" I took a few deeper breaths, shaking my head and rolling my neck. I grabbed hold of my wand, pulling it out of my holster. "Now, in the privacy of this room," I glared at the straw mannequin, who had no fault of his own. "Let us get the party started," I spoke, and I spoke as if it was a threat, a promise, and a curse all bound as one.

By the time I stepped out of there, I was as sweaty as I could possibly ever be, but also had a glow to myself. It was the glow of satisfaction. I had a skip to my step, a grin on my face, and was quite happy with the results achieved.

The Flipendo wasn't that hard of a spell to learn. The wand movement were a bit jerky at first, but by the time I got used to it, and without the peer pressure of other wizards breathing down on my neck, I actually managed to work it out by myself. It felt odd to say it, but I couldn't help but feel the judgment of the fellow students around me as some kind of oppressive sentiment.

It wasn't that I was afraid of failing, but I couldn't help remove from my head the thought that I shouldn't fit in with them. I was someone who could naturally fit in with pretty much anyone, but wizards? Wizards would curse you with slug-vomiting curses without a second thought, and that was dangerous. I mean, I wasn't going to go all gung-ho about it, but everyone in school was carrying a gun that could transform into a bazooka, a flower bouquet and a box of chocolates.

By the end of the first year, every single wizard knew the Incendio charm and while wizards could survive with relative ease third degree burns, it was like giving kids access to a flamethrower, and that seemed kind of a big issue in my humble opinion. Sure, the Aurors would arrive in a matter of seconds and solve the issue with apparition and whatnot, and the damage could theoretically be reversed.

This, too, was common wizard sense: even if you break something and burn down a house, if you repair everything and obliviate everyone, the crime never happened. Well, it did for the wizardry world, and there was Azkaban or I hoped lighter sentences for them, but the muggles would literally go through the trauma of a burning house, and then get that trauma removed.

It had to make for quite some interesting nightmares.

Dinner was a quiet affair on my part. I arrived just in time, barely managing to squeeze through a group returning from the library, and thus avoiding to answer the door's riddle for the third day in a row. As long as I left and returned together with a group, I'd never have to suffer through a riddle.

Was this what the sorting hat meant with me being a snake rather than a raven? I was seeking the easy route rather than the right and witty one, but at the same time, I did seek out knowledge rather than power. At least, I was doing that for now.

And didn't that open up an all new can of worms...

What the hell was I going to do later? Like, for Christmas vacation? And what about Summer? Was I an orphan? Judging by how not a single family member had seen me off, it could but mean I was an orphan of some sort. Was I going to live in a bleak and gray orphanage during the summer months?

I couldn't help but shudder while thinking instead at the worst possibility ever; namely, that I had literally popped out of nowhere, and would need to find a place to stay, and money to survive until the start of a new year, and to get the funds needed for next year's books. I would need memory altering charms.

Wait. No, I didn't need memory altering charms. I just needed to speak with the Deputy-Headmistress about my situation. I'd blame amnesia after smelling some fumes during potion hours, or perhaps after making another matchstick explode. Either things would work fine, or maybe I'd blame it on the Weasley Twins.

Yes, that was a better solution to memory altering some innocent people into taking me into their family like some kind of human cuckoo bird.

Everything could wait, though, for dinner was sacred and so too was a good night's rest.

The next morning saw us begin bright and early with a Charms lesson...

...and finish off with a thundering explosion during double potions.

Last edited: Jul 16, 2018

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#46

Chapter Six

The lesson had begun normally enough, for a certain definition of normal when it came to Snape's lessons. He had asked a question to a Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff hadn't answered. He had thus asked a question to a Ravenclaw, and the Ravenclaw had answered.

I was that Ravenclaw, and I had answered as fully as I was able to, because I did not doubt Snape would punish the Ravenclaws if I forgot to mention a possible use of the Dried Nettles. Thus, with Hufflepuff having lost twenty points, and us having received none, we began to work on our potion.

It was the Cure for Boils. It was an easy enough potion to make, at least on paper. The book was open in front of me, and as I diligently worked on it, I dimly realized I was the odd one out. It seemed to be some kind of calculated move, because the Hufflepuffs were odd in numbers too. Thus, I ended up sharing my cauldron with a Hufflepuff.

"Shade," I said as nicely as I could in a whisper-like voice. "If you'll crush the snake fangs, I'll slice the pungous onions," I offered as a gesture to get things going.

"Emma," the Hufflepuff girl answered. She had dark raven hair and dark eyes, and looked kind of lost away from her Hufflepuff Hive-Mind. At the same time, she complied dutifully. "How many should I crush?" she asked, grabbing hold of the mortar and pestle.

"Recipe says six," I whispered back. Thus, we got to work amiably. By the time we were halfway through the potion, I reckoned I had started to loosen up a bit. Everything was looking fine. The potion was bubbling away happily at low heat, the wand had been waved in front of it, and now we just had to wait for everything to work out properly.

As I would later realize, true foes do not come only in the human variety. Peeves, the Poltergeist, made his appearance with a cackle from the wall side, much to Snape's annoyance.

"Itsy bitsy firsties!" he cackled in his shining, ghostly form. I had noticed the ghosts some times float up and down the castle, or walk past us as if we weren't really there, but this was the first time I had met with Peeves. It was usually an unspoken agreement that Potions would not be disturbed by the Poltergeist. The Bloody Baron would deal with the ghost, scare him off, or do something to grant us the peace needed to properly concentrate on our potions.

This time, apparently, the Bloody Baron hadn't come in time to stop him.

Professor Snape did whip out his wand and something greenish left it, slamming into the ghost like some kind of powerful glue and making it recoil away. However, it wasn't fast enough to keep him from throwing some kind of small, crimson globes in the air. They looked ready to pop, like fireworks, but Snape's second swish of the wand came fast, deadly, and silent. The globes all froze in mid-air within tiny cubes of ice, and fell on the ground. Thankfully, they fell far from the cauldrons themselves.

"Boilsboilsboils! They're so nice and scratchy, why would you not want boils!?" Peeve screamed in offense as he was literally flung against, and past, the wall by the greenish ooze.

With a sigh of relief, and a swish of the wand, Professor Snape summoned the globes to his desk.

The Peeves incident behind us, I returned to the potion and glanced at the knocked down hour-glass. I pulled it back up, made a quick calculation of just how many minutes off the entire thing could have been set, and then hoped for the best.

Somewhere in the distance, when the time came to add the porcupine quills, someone forgot to remove their cauldrons from the fire.

The cauldron, as was apparently made obvious by Professor Snape's curses, melted.

The students both hissed and moved away from it as fast as they could, and in the chaos that ensued -and which didn't last long thanks to Professor Snape's swift intervention- I realized dimly I had lost count of the counter-clockwise stirs I had been giving to my potion.

Had I stopped at three, or four? These were the true questions a true student shouldn't be asking himself while holding a ticking time bomb in his hands, but apparently yes, it had happened. I now stood in front of a potion which needed to be completed, and I had forgotten the amount of stirs.

I gave it another, and noticed no change. I gave it another, and nothing changed. Now, I didn't know if I was done, or if I had to add one more stir just to be sure.

Would exceeding or going below the number of stirs actually change the potion's effect? Would...would something bad happen if I made a mistake at the final end of the potion?

I looked at Emma, who seemed puzzled by my hesitation to finish the potion. "I forgot the number of stirs," I awkwardly said.

Her eyes widened briefly. "Oh," she said. "Maybe...I should get the professor?" she winced as she said that, realizing that Snape hadn't yet finished berating the dunderheads who hadn't been capable of reading simple Queen's English and understanding basic concepts.

"Just, I'd rather you scuttled away a bit," I said with a grimace. "I don't know if it's going to blow or not, but..."

Emma looked torn. "It's a joint effort," she said in the end, "Let's finish it now." She lifted her wand, waved it while I still held the stirring spoon in my hands, and then tapped the side of the cauldron.

Pink smoke rose from the cauldron.

We both sighed in relief.

We bottled the results, labelled them with our name, and I found out that my potion partner's full name was Emma Vane. I furrowed my brows. I vaguely recalled a Vane somewhere, but in Gryffindor rather than in Hufflepuff.

I shrugged it off. It wasn't important, and I doubted we'd stick for long. She'd probably get a friendly Hufflepuff to help her next time around, and I'd get someone else or be left to brew by myself while three Hufflepuffs would work on a single cauldron.

It would be no skin off my teeth.

Now, with the free afternoon in front of me, I had a clear task ahead.

After lunch was over, I once more assaulted the gargoyle with my list of sweets.

Finally, there was a hiss and the gargoyle leaped aside.

Jelly Slugs.

The password was Jelly Slugs.

Now, it was time to end this once and for all.

I would do that which no self-respecting main protagonist would ever do.

I would let the wise, smart, intelligent Merlin-like character do his thing after delivering him all of the knowledge he needed. Like where the Horcruxes were, how cursed they were, how badly cursed they were and that no, he shouldn't put a cursed ring on his finger. Then I'd enjoy school life doing random things with magic and without having to worry about much more than flipping dung-bombs back at their original throwers.

Yes, I'd do that. The Weasley Twins would rue the day they set themselves against the likes of me. I'd Dung-Bomb them back into oblivion!

Thus I stepped right up the stairs and straight into Dumbledore's massive office.

The old, grey-bearded man was expecting me...

...but he was underestimating my power.

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#51

Chapter Seven

Headmaster Dumbledore's office was large, and filled with portraits from the past headmasters. There were many tools and artifacts to witness, some spinning wildly without purpose, or perhaps with purpose. Dumbledore was currently bent over a parchment, muttering words that a floating quill actually scribbled down on his paper. I didn't make much noise climbing the stairs, or so I thought, but his voice did ring clearly through the office.

"Mister Umbrus," he said amiably. "You found quite the interesting challenge to pit your Ravenclaw wits' against so soon," he looked up, his eyes glinting with warmth as a smile adorned his old, wrinkly face and the large, grey beard did little to hide it. It made everyone feel at ease. There was a reason Dumbledore was perhaps the most loved of wizards; he could make anyone feel at ease. He was the grandfather you never knew you had, until you found him right there in front of you.

This didn't mean he was infallible, and knew everything of course. He was only human. He wasn't a Hive-Mind of Min-Maxing Cost-Benefits.

"Headmaster, I'm sorry to bother you," I said, "But while you won't believe me at first, please hear me out. Tom Riddle made seven horcruxes, and they're-" I babbled on, the Headmaster listening on amiably and nodding every now and then. He didn't look puzzled, shocked, or surprise. I actually finished speaking after a few minutes, and the man simply laughed at the end of it all.

"I see! Quite the interesting tale on how you found out my office key word," he smiled as he said that. His eyes twinkled. "I suppose I will be giving ten points to Ravenclaw for such a witty finding. It's rare for a student to come seek me out by themselves. Normally, they are brought here due to their pranks."

I faltered with my next words, "But...Headmaster, I just told you that I know of Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter's fate, the entire thing about the Horcruxes and there's Tom Riddle in the back of Quirrell's head. I mean, that's what..." my words failed me as the Headmaster nodded amiably once more.

"Your burning curiosity will be answered then, Mister Umbrus. Do take a seat. I was growing bored with writing this latest piece for the Wizengamot," he gestured at the chair in front of his desk, and I numbly walked forward, taking the offered seat. "Dealing with the Wizengamot, being a supreme mugwump and a headmaster is quite the strenuous work, I admit." He grinned, and gestured at the lemony sweets on his desk. "Sherbet lemon?"

I grabbed one in a state of daze, opening the wrapping and putting the sweet in my mouth.

The sour taste of lemon did little to assuage my shock as Dumbledore spoke about how he used a leather-bound book to keep notice of his appointments. Remembralls were useless since they didn't specify what one forgot. I nodded, every now and then trying to pitch in some tidbit of knowledge. Pettigrew being alive, Sirius Black being innocent, Harry Potter acquiring the cloak of invisibility and so forth...they all failed. Every question hung in the air for a while, became a question about the peculiarities of a job, turned into querying how he learned to do this or that, and by the time I had slumped my shoulders in defeat, the Headmaster gently dismissed me because he really had to get back to work.

He did offer me one last sherbet lemon, which I took.

I stared, my eyes probably showcasing the death within my soul, at my reflection in the Ravenclaw's common room. There was a saying that if you wanted things done well, you had to do them yourself. There also was another saying which clearly claimed that if you didn't want to sweat, you just had to let someone else work for you.

Technically speaking, I could just wash my hand clean of everything. At the same time, this forced me to deal with another problem. I needed to speak with the Deputy-Headmistress about my situation. Was I an orphan? How was I going to breach that particular topic?

Hello Professor McGonagall, I can't remember if I have a family or not. Could you please help me?

Well, she might just be able to help me, if she didn't dismiss me out of hand. That could wait, however, until I got down my extra practice with spells.

"But first, we must skip ahead a few years," I muttered, staring at the old, dusty books the Room of Requirement had provided me with. The Protego Charm was hard to learn and master, and many an adult wizard failed it regularly. However, it was essential. If I wanted to survive, I needed to learn that spell. I had the Flipendo, and it would be enough, but without a shield, then the first strong curse would see me dead in a matter of seconds.

The wand movement was a simple straight line, followed by the words Protego. It wasn't that difficult. It shouldn't have been that difficult. How hard could it be? "Protego!" I swished my wand down, and strangely, nothing happened.

I blinked a bit at the lack of anything even remotely shield-like. Then again, the shield was invisible unless a spell was cast against it, so...how could I do that?

I stared at the Mannequin. It stood on a pivoting base. If I hit the thing with Flipendo, it would spin around. The Protego spell protected against physical entities too, so theoretically...

I ended up with a bruise on the side of my cheek as if someone had punched me straight ahead.

No, the Protego charm had not worked. Even so, as I nursed my bruise briefly, I didn't let this go. Bruises would pass, but bowel-rupturing curses would be the death of me.

Since I couldn't let Dumbledore deal with everything, I had to step in when required to ricochet events off their planned stages. The first year had relatively little to alter, if anything at all. The Philosopher Stone would remain protected as long as Harry Potter and his usual trio went doing their usual stuff, and since death didn't enter the equation until the fourth year...but perhaps, I could avoid the entire Basilisk accident?

I'd need to stalk Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in the second year during the night, strike the youngest Weasley unconscious, grab the diary and then...throw it in an incinerator? Fiendfyre it to death? I doubted I'd learn how to use Fiendfyre in a year. I doubted I even wanted to learn Fiendfyre. Like, a dangerous fire that burns without ever stopping is a pretty dangerous thing to try to learn by yourself.

I could leave a scribbled message on it citing 'Horcrux', and drop it inside Dumbledore's office. Would he even understand, or would he use it to write down his memories and end up being possessed by Tom Riddle?

The thought made me balk. No, I had to take the diary, throw it somewhere safe, and leave it there. Maybe I'd dig a hole in the Forbidden forest and leave it down there to rot forever.

"First things first," I mumbled, the sting in my cheek having diminished. "Protego charm, then dinner, then..." I blinked. The next day I had defense against the dark arts in the afternoon. I hadn't done the assigned homework yet.

"Counter-plan," I amended to myself in the emptiness of the Room of Requirement.

First came the call of duty...

...then came the battlefield of war.

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Chapter Eight

We had flying in the morning. It meant flying on a broomstick. I actually felt excited about it. It was a broomstick, a bonafide flying tool of sorts, and it was supposed to bring us up in the sky where the only limit was how courageous we were and how foolhardy we could be. We also had to keep our feet on the ground until we got our broomsticks in hand, and were capable of moving back and forth upon them.

As things went by, the first lesson with Professor Hooch came in the morning, and had us all stand by the side of our school-loaned brooms trying to get them to come up into our hands.

"Up!" was the only word needed, and just like that, the brooms ended up in our hands. The difference between Muggleborns, Half-Blood and Pureblood became known right there and then. The first didn't know what to do with the broom, like me. The second and the third instead knew already what they had to do not to fall, and in some case could easily move on them without lifting themselves too far up.

"Good, good, feet on the ground!" Madam Hooch would say, sometimes whistling to keep a student from going too far up, or grounding someone with her wand. I managed to get the broomstick in my hand, and to climb aboard with relative ease. Depending on where I bent the top of the broom, it would go up or down. There wasn't much in the way of controls past that. If one bent to the left, and pulled the stick to the left, it would move left.

Perhaps it was like using a helicopter's cloche, whereas there was no way of stopping the engine without at first getting your feet on the ground. At the same time, we weren't actually allowed to fly any higher than a foot, or perhaps two, until the very end of the lesson. We finished quickly, since Transfiguration would be next.

All in all, the days at Hogwarts were starting to blend into one another. There were lessons, there was theory and practice, there was breakfast, lunch and dinner, and rarely there was something deviating from the norms. It was interesting, but at the same time boring. The initial hurdles gone by, I reckoned destiny would continue along its intended path without much of an intervention.

Thus, I was surprised when something out of the ordinary happened.

"Are you working on Snape's latest essay, Shade?" the voice that asked me was a polite one, admittedly. It belonged to my potions' partner, whom I practically did not meet unless we were both at potions. I glanced up from my parchment, stared into the eyes of a hopeful eleven year old, and then gave a quiet nod in reply.

Emma Vane took a seat at my library table, soon followed by another girl I knew nothing of. "This is my friend, Fay," she said as ways of making presentations. "She's in Gryffindor with Harry Potter!" she added excitedly, in a low whisper.

"Nice to meet you," I said politely, scribbling down some more words on my essay. The man could be an ass when it came to lessons, but he apparently approved of the way I wrote my essays. Perhaps because I wrote them trying my best to keep them clearly readable, or perhaps because my annotations were actually on point, but he never valued them negatively. I'd actually have high chances of getting into the NEWT-level classes in potions if I kept this up.

"Can we have a look at your homework when you're done?" Emma asked, and I merely shrugged.

"Sure," I said. "Don't copy it straight, or Snape's going to catch on."

"Hey, we weren't going to copy it," Emma took offense to that, but I merely shrugged once more. "Really," she added.

"It doesn't bother me whether you do or not," I said, scribbling one more line on the usage of the Bezoar. "At the end of the day, there's no reason to sweat for the knowledge you don't need to learn." I flipped open the book by my side, taking the citation and adding it to the bottom of the parchment. "Though the knowledge you don't know you need...that's tougher to decide whether you need it or not."

Fay blinked. "Bookworm," she said in the end.

"Guilty," I answered with a nod and a smile. "So?" I pushed my finished homework ahead of me. "Your choice, brave Gryffindor. Do the easy thing, or do the right thing." I pulled out a free parchment. "I'll work on Transfiguration in the meantime."

As I began to flip to the assigned chapter that McGonagall wanted read, and from which she wanted us to write an essay on the difference between transfiguring a needle into a matchstick rather than the opposite, I briefly watched Fay's expression flicker with doubt, but then she shrugged it off and began to earnestly read and copy my essay. Her cousin hesitated a bit more, but in the end she copied from it too.

I didn't care. I didn't expect to have company while scribbling down, and I had gotten used to being left pretty much alone. I was the eye of the tempest; an area of quiet and silent acceptance. Everyone knew whom I was, and what I did, and nobody really cared. Then again, we were all eleven year old. I highly doubted any of them thought about me for more than two seconds, and for the professors I probably ranked as a quiet boy, maybe shy, who gave them no troubles.

Thus, September began to bleed into October.

"You're Shade, right?" someone asked, and I blinked at the figure who asked it. Frizzy dark hair, brown eyes and a Gryffindor tie belonged to the strangely stern-looking eleven year old that stopped me while I was heading towards the library to do my homework. She had zeroed on me after lunch, and was pretty clearly looking ready for a fight of some kind.

Well, I still didn't have the Protego charm, and my Flipendo could use some more practice, but I was willing and ready to get the party started if she wanted a scuffle.

"Yes?" I hazarded.

"You're letting Fay copy from you, and if you don't stop, I'm going to the professors with this," the figure said, firmly looking ready to defend the honesty and sanctity of homework from all evil individuals. I stared a bit more at her, furrowing my eyebrows and half-losing myself in thought. I stared at her for a bit longer than the norm, so much so that she began to fidget.

"I will if you don't stop," she pressed on.

"I'm sorry but...Fay who?" I asked, nonchalantly feigning ignorance.

The girl's stern appearance slipped. "But I overheard her say she copied her Potion essay from you-" she began in a mutter, only for me to shrug once more at her words.

"I'm headed to the library to get started on my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework," I said as politely as I could. "If you want, after I'm done with it I can let you have a look and see if there's anything in it you can use in your own essay?"

The girl's eyes widened ever so slightly. "So that's it!" she blurted out. "You-Don't you even bother checking!? She just copied it all, don't you know the professors are going to punish you if..." I shrugged once more at her words. "And stop shrugging! It's rude."

"Amen," I said. "Well, I'm going to the library. If you want, you can come along."

"The professors..." the girl said, hesitantly.

"The fool knows not the dangerous precipice he heads to when he takes knowledge without having learned it," I looked straight back at her with a small smile. "When the exams come around, I suppose they will cry?" I mused, and then shrugged. "The greatest punishment of those who cheat comes when they are put to the test."

"I don't like that at all," the girl said. "I'm telling the professors."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sure. I'll say I just let them look at my homework to get the general idea on how the work was to be done. They're the ones who copied, so they're the ones who'll get in trouble. I won't hold it against you, and if you want, I'll keep you a seat in the library, but think what they're going to do to you. Do you think they'll appreciate you sticking your nose in their affairs?" I sighed, and glanced in the general direction of the library. "I'm going, or I'll never be done with my homework. Feel free to come whenever you want."

And with that said, I walked away much to the annoyed spluttering of the fizzy-haired first year.

She had to be a filler-type character of some kind, maybe Hermione Granger had taken her place in the trio and she had ended up in the background of the movies.

It happened. There was a first year in Hufflepuff whose name was Lily Moon, and she looked every bit like Luna Lovegood in character alone. Pale blond hair, half-asleep gaze, and generally looking like she had lost a bet with sleep, or common sense. Not to the drastic levels of the original character, but somehow she did fit the bill.

Fizzy-hair was perhaps the pale copy of Hermione Granger.

Fight on, pale copy of a protagonist.

One day, maybe, you'll make your one-liner.

Last edited: Jul 18, 2018

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#96

Chapter Nine

There was something cathartic in the way every tiny piece fell into place. Well, not really cathartic per se. Perhaps that wasn't the word I was looking for to begin with. On the positive side, I now had a needle in place of a matchstick, and could turn it back with ease too.

Extra practice was always a positive thing, in my book.

"Mister Umbrus, you actually managed," McGonagall was actually honestly impressed. It had taken me weeks to get it down, after all. Perhaps I would never have a future as a Transfiguration-Heavy wizard, but she couldn't help but approve of my work ethic. "Now, before moving onto the Mice to Snuffbox spell, perhaps you would be better served doing the intermediate step as well."

Was she afraid I'd blow the mouse up in a shower of...well, yes, that was highly probable. Better to play it safe than be sorry. The blood would be hard to wash away, and I'd probably traumatize the other students.

Thus, before moving to that spell, I'd have to transform a cube of wood into a snuffbox. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Or so I thought. Still, I took to practicing my transfiguration in the far end corner of the room, and the spots near me were left religiously empty to avoid proximity casualties. It proved to be quite the wise thought -McGonagall even gave me five points for thinking about it.

"Hello Ma'am Pomfrey," I said with an awkward smile, glancing at her defeated expression as soon as she saw me enter.

"Mister Umbrus," Madam Pomfrey answered with a shake of her head. "Transfiguration troubles?"

I brought forth my left hand, filled with wooden splinters. It had stopped bleeding a while before, but it was still a sore sight. It was bizarre how something as damaging as a shrapnel-torn hand received nothing more than a simple head for the infirmary, Mister Umbrus. If this had been any normal elementary school, I'd be sent quickly to the nearest hospital. As it was, barring the pain which had been dulled with a spell from McGonagall, nobody had raised more than an eyebrow. Hell, looking at it, I could see the splinters starting to drop by themselves.

Wizards had a passive regeneration ability, I reckoned. It was the only explanation.

"The wooden box refused to become a snuffbox," I said awkwardly as I took a seat. "It's not like I do this on purpose," I added. "I thought it had to be empty inside, and the mechanism? What about the mechanism? Which mechanism was I supposed to put? A latch? A cog? A something?"

"I see," Madam Pomfrey said, "Well, let us get you on your way then," with a flick of the wand, the splinters all dropped out and the hand mended itself as if it had never gone through a grinder of wood.

"I need to learn that," I muttered. "What's the name of the spell?"

"The Episkey, Mister Umbrus," Madam Pomfrey said. "It heals relatively minor injuries, so do not feel the need to stop coming by if you get seriously hurt. It won't heal other, more serious injuries." She raised an eyebrow. "Rest for a bit. The limb is healed, but give your body time to realize it's fine."

She tapped the back of my hand with her wand, and the pain that had been dulled flared back for the briefest of instants, before becoming like a dull throb. It lasted only the slightest of instants, much to my quiet hissing, and then it was gone. I opened and closed my hand with ease, and grinned as I was allowed to leave not five minutes later with the strict order to return to the Transfiguration classroom.

This time, McGonagall didn't even take away points for my explosive transfiguration. She just reckoned it was going to be a thing, and left me to my own devises. It was nice of her. Or perhaps I wasn't the first for which such things happened. Neville never managed to get through potions without melting a cauldron or making something explode from what I vaguely recalled.

Thus, clearly, I was merely a normal student doing normal student things. Potions was a double-lesson once more, but before getting to work on a potion, Professor Snape returned our homework to us, coming to a halt in front of me with my parchment in hand.

"Mister Umbrus," Snape's lessons were the last of the Friday afternoon, "Your latest report lacks in originality." There was silence in the classroom. Not a pin could be heard, or an owl hoot. Snape looked quite pleased with his own words.

"Considering they're mainly citations from other works, they never were original to begin with, professor," I dutifully replied. "Is that not the purpose of reports? To test our ability to use synonyms while answering questions?"

"Your wits will not help you avoid punishment, Mister Umbrus," Professor Snape answered curtly. "That will be ten points from Ravenclaw."

"I'd rather not avoid punishment at all, Professor," I answered. "After all, punishments are meant as ways to correct a pupil's growth," I added. "Only a fool would refuse a punishment meant for his sake."

Snape remained briefly silent, then he glanced straight at my eyes. I innocently returned the gaze. Whatever he'd give as a punishment was probably deserved, maybe tied to how I didn't check the others properly, but they had been the ones to ask to look at my homework, after all. It was true that I didn't really want to be punished, but at the same time I'd take it like a big boy. Becoming good at scrubbing cauldrons would serve me well in the future.

"I will be taking twenty-five points from Ravenclaw," Professor Snape spoke. "For every work that lacks originality, I will take twenty-five more."

"Understandable, professor," I answered with a nod. "I will strive to do better and make them more original."

"See that you do, Mister Umbrus," Professor Snape remarked. Then, he left my parchment in front of me. It was correct, of course. The mark on it hadn't even been changed. It was an Outstanding. The mark on Emma Vane's homework, eerily similar to mine, was a T for Troll.

There were the hint of tears in her eyes.

I looked at her, and she returned my gaze.

"The only marks that matter are those for the exams at the end of the year," I said.

She didn't take it well, considering she did not come by the afternoon homework-group I had unofficially started in the library. On the plus side, one triumphant-looking fizzy-haired girl swooped in and took a seat in front of me.

"Fay got a Troll in potions," she beamed as she said that.

"I see," I answered, nonplussed. "Does that make you feel happy?" I asked next, nonchalantly starting to scribble down the first line on the Transfiguration homework.

"Well, she didn't put in any effort," fizzy-hair said, "Serves her right."

"How interesting," I remarked. "To find joy in someone else's suffering is quite the vicious thing."

The girl blistered, and huffed. "That's not true. It just wasn't right, and now it is."

"Yes, of course," I answered. "You are right on that. However, why should you feel happy because of her pain?" I raised an eyebrow in her direction. Perhaps she was one of those blood purist sympathizers? Was Fay a muggleborn or a half-blood? I hadn't asked her. Maybe she was the kind of background character that picked on Hermione Granger, or on Luna Lovegood whenever they got the chance.

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing she was caught," fizzy-hair huffed.

"I'm not making it a bad thing, or a good thing." I mused. "She was caught, the consequences lie on her." I added. "You are not her, however," I continued most amiably. "So why should you feel happy about her being caught? Did you hate her? Did she commit some crime against you?"

Fizzy-hair looked at me, her eyes kind-of crossed. "No, no she didn't." She looked glumly down at her Transfiguration book.

"Then, let us speak of this no more," I said amiably. "Concerning Transfiguration, has Professor McGonagall said anything about the viciousness of wood when compared to that of a wooden snuffbox, or hasn't she?"

The fizzy-haired girl looked at me strangely, as if I'd grown a second head. "But wood isn't vicious. It doesn't have a viciousness factor."

"Ah," I blinked as the information filtered in. "That would explain the explosion."

I furrowed my brows. "Needles are made of metal, and metal has a viciousness factor."

"Yes," fizzy-hair said. "But...explosion?"

"Yes," I began, and then a grin spread on my face. "My transfiguration is always a bit explosive. I think my wand enjoys the flair of it."

I resumed my scribbling at the sight of fizzy-hair's surprised look.

Don't worry, little girl. I'll ensure you'll become a fan favorite side-character. Like that Daphne Greengrass gal who has no scripted lines, but somehow ends up treated as an important character.

Wait. Could she actually be Daphne? No, Daphne was a Slytherin, wasn't she?

Still, since she didn't look like any named character, she might have been the mysterious fifth girl of Gryffindor that was never mentioned.

Thus, I scribbled on.

All my life had been, unlimited scribbling work.

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#108

Chapter Ten

I stared, with a look that held a thousand-mile stare, at the straw mannequin in front of me. Other students enjoyed their weekends catching up to the homework they had yet to do. I spent my weekends trying to become an absolute min-maxing Wizard bastard. Silent spell-casting, wandless spell-casting, anything that the cesspools of fanfiction had stuck into the brains of countless readers, sometimes including myself, I tried.

The end result was that I spent quite a few weekends staring very angrily at the straw mannequin, earning nothing more than a dull throb in the back of my head on the best days, and a headache on the worst ones.

Honestly, I actually got better at throwing Flipendo so fast, I could make the mannequin half-spin right and left so quickly it eventually broke off its spinning base.

The Protego spell was yet beyond me, and rather than waste time with a fruitless endeavor, I moved on to the next spell in the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. The Verdimillious spell, or as the Ministry of Magic probably called it, the one spell that was so much of a mouthful, by the time you sent it the enemy had the time to find cover.

"Verdimillious!" the forward slash of my wand had me hope for something more than a few sparks, but that was what I was rewarded with. A few sparks, and not at all like the ones from the spell. Sure, they were meant to be sparks, but they also were anything but a jet. At most, they were a sparkler.

"Is magic a muscle?" I mused after an hour spent on it. "Do I need to build up before moving on to the top-tier spells?" No. It made no sense. The only one stopping me was myself. Still, rather than attempt by trial and fail miserably, I picked my way out of the Room of Requirements and straight into the library.

If I had asked the librarian, she would have probably scoffed at me. I needed to learn more about wandless magic if I wanted to become the overpowered Gary Stu protagonist I knew I could become. Thus, what better way than to seek out an area where older Hogwarts student operated within the library, and then look at the books in that general direction?

My plan was flawless, my instincts true, honed and ready to bring me to new heights.

Hence, I found a very promising book entitled Wandless? Worthless! and another No Wand, No Bang. Ironically, I was starting to see a pattern. The wand was an European invention, that much I still vaguely remembered. The Room of Requirements couldn't help me, since no one had ever lost books on the argument. Perhaps because they had never been brought to England to begin with.

I'd need to owl-order them, but in order to do that, I needed to subscribe to a magazine.

I stopped, half-tempted to just leave, as my eyes zeroed in on a wizardry book that seemed to have been left in a corner. I had nearly missed it, and that was a grievous sin.

Wizardious Musicking, a Guide by Hummington Bardletone

I plopped down on a nearby table, book in hand, and began to read. It wasn't that I had a fascination with playing music, but I so did enjoy listening to it. With magic, perhaps I wouldn't need my own skills to do so, and I could recreate the famous pieces. It was something I actually, really wanted to learn. How to make music, how to play music, how to make the basses and the drums, the guitars and the violins.

The piano keys could be played by swinging the wand in a rhythm, "Symphonia Cantatio," was the incantation to begin the spell, and "Symphonia Conclusio," the one to finish it. Once cast, moving the wand would result in different patterns, which would all be error-free. This was the beauty of the wizardry magic when concerning music. There wouldn't be mistakes.

However, just because the chords and the tunes would come out flawlessly, it didn't mean they'd make sense. There was a need to compose. There was a need to have wand-movements, like dance-steps, in order to produce a desired result.

"I have to try this," I whispered to myself, glancing right and left. Madam Pince wasn't going to let me bring the book outside, and I couldn't steal it. The only solution was to copy it.

"You have to try what?" a voice startled me, making me turn and then quickly exhale in relief. It was fizzy-hair, coming over to study. She was holding on to a copy of History of Hogwarts, and looked ready to deal with it at her leisure.

"Music," I answered amiably, lifting up my book for her to see the title. "Magical music. Maybe even someone like me can play if it's magic doing the job," I grinned as I said that, honestly excited. Who needed to sweat his ass off and break his fingers practicing, when a swish of the wand would grant one the music of Mozart?

"You already did the history of magic homework?" fizzy-hair asked.

I blinked. "He gave homework?" I mouthed. She huffed, and then nodded. "Well," I sighed, and closed my music book. "So long, orchestra, we'll meet again." I pushed the book away and pulled out a clean parchment. If I went back up to grab my book, I'd waste years. Thus, I swiftly turned my eyes towards the books resting on the shelves. "History of Magic," I whispered, making psst-psst sounds at a flying book, "Come down here boy!"

The book fluttered, a bit confused, and then dive-bombed down right in front of me. "Who's a good boy?" I mumbled, half in disbelief, and half in shock, as I scratched the leathery back of the book in question. "You are, you silly flying book."

I pried it open, and moved on to the pages dealing with Emeric the Evil, and the main differences with Uric the Oddball were soon compiled. By the time I was done, my wrist felt a bit cranky. Since Fizzy-hair was curiously looking at my parchment, I gently pushed it forward in her direction. She did the same for hers, and I quickly scanned through the childish writing half-expecting to find a thousand and two mistakes. I found surprisingly little. A couple of words could have also been poorly written, but it was mostly fine.

"I forgot that Emeric the Evil was put inside the tales of Beedle the Bard," fizzy-hair said in a whisper, "I'll have to add it in." She scribbled the note down on her parchment, having I returned it.

I grabbed hold of the musical book once more, and returned to the page I had been prior to the interruption. The library's book on History of Magic fluttered away, and fizzy-hair instead stuck around.

She moved to the shelf briefly, and then returned with a book on charms.

She sat down, opened it, and began to peer over the pages as if there was no other purpose in her life but to become one with the pages themselves.

Such a serious little girl, she must have been the pride of her parents. I, on the other hand, had to seriously start thinking about what to do. Since I didn't learn spells as easily as air, I highly doubted I'd get the Obliviate spell ready to insert myself in a muggle family, much less manipulate the minds of people.

I'd need to have a discussion with the Deputy-Headmistress, who was probably in charge of the entire 'Orphan-Management-Fund'.

Thus, since I knew where I could find Professor McGonagall, I went straight ahead to knock at her office's door on a Saturday afternoon.

What awaited me on the other end...

...was a traumatic experience with tea and scones.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

My Amazon Book Page. My Smashwords Book Page. UBL For The Investigator and the Case of the Missing Brain. UBL for The Race. UBL for The Investigator and the Fury of the Fog. UBL for Prim and Proper. UBL for I, Master.

My . Since people kept asking. I'll keep writing wherever and whenever, but if you want to feel like one of the coffees I drink is offered by you, feel free.

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#113

Chapter Eleven

Professor McGonagall actually served tea and scones when students came by to ask for help. Professor Flitwick had dancing cupcakes, and she had warm tea and scones. I was never one to say no to free food, and so as I aptly sat down and graciously accepted the offer for them, I dimly realized I didn't know how to breach the argument without sounding off, or on drugs. Then I realized I was in the Wizardry world.

"Professor, I'm sorry to bother you," I said before taking the first sip of tea, "But...I wanted to write back home, but I never...well," I looked sideways, "I never memorized the address."

Professor McGonagall said nothing at first. Then she coughed, awkwardly, and I realized it was because she had barely hidden a smile. "I see," she said with a strangely fond look. "Well, even the wittiest of Ravens tend to have their oddities, Mister Umbrus." She pulled her wand out, flicked it a bit, and a parchment floated from a neat pile all the way to her front desk.

On it, an address was scribbled. It was both an answer, and yet a troublesome thing.

The address, written for completion's sake, was of an orphanage.

"Thank you, professor," I said with a smile. "I promised some of my friends I'd write to them, but..." I looked down, "I didn't remember until recently." I coughed, trying my best slightly nervous expression. "Guess that makes me a bad Ravenclaw, doesn't it?"

"Goodness gracious, no," professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. "The wonders of Hogwarts are such it would be preposterous to expect any differently. Do not let the fascination for your House take over the way you wish to be, Mister Umbrus. Not all Ravenclaws are intelligent and smart, and not all Gryffindors are brave and kind." She then straightened a bit, "Concerning your transfiguration work in the classroom, however, that is where you need to work on."

I winced. "I try, but I think I got it. I thought wood had a viciousness factor to it, so I inherently applied more power to the spell-maybe if I applied a bit less-"

"Then the spell wouldn't start," professor McGonagall mentioned. "Young man, it's not the amount of magic that matters. It's what you wish to achieve. What do you think transfiguration is? An explosive snap? You need to imagine the smooth transitions between states, think of them as pictures, one after the other..." as she said that, I blinked. I hadn't thought of it that way. It went by so fast, did it mean I had to be the one to imagine the transitioning between the states?

"That's...I'll try it," I said.

"Do so in the proximity of the infirmary, Mister Umbrus," professor McGonagall said.

I took a sip of the offered tea. "Concerning wandless magic instead..."

"The viciousness factor can be, indeed, compared to the perceived difficulty of transforming a material into another that is different from its origin..." as professor McGonagall answered my question with something completely different, I furrowed my brows. It wasn't that wandless magic was such a foreign thing, was it? However, had anyone ever mentioned it to me? Had I ever seen it?

The answer was no.

I nodded every now and then to McGonagall's words, doing my best to remain interested until I had the time to ask another question. "Professor, how did you manage to make the parchment float without speaking the words of a spell?"

"That," Professor McGonagall answered, "is something you will learn in your sixth year at Hogwarts, Mister Umbrus. A Nonverbal spell requires a great deal of concentration and mental discipline, as well as a good amount of practice, but they will rarely be as strong as their verbal counterpart, barring some exceptions. Professor Flitwick would be delighted to speak more of this, however." I nodded, finished the tea, munched on the scone, and then happily waved Professor McGonagall goodbye.

What other students dreaded doing during the weekend afternoons, I called having a snack.

My head peeked inside professor Flitwick's office, finding the small man correcting the homework assigned. Mine stood in a corner, the Outstanding on it quite visible. "Ah, Mister Umbrus!" the man said excitedly, beaming me a smile. "Another Outstanding, just like what I'd expect from one of my students."

Well, it wasn't that hard to get straight-A's when you literally were an adult stuck in the body of a child.

"Thank you professor, I was told to come to you to ask about nonverbal spells?" as soon as I said that, and took an offered seat, professor Flitwick stopped grading the homework.

"Oh, you heard some sixth year student speak about those?" Professor Flitwick had an amused twitch on his lips, "Well, that is quite the advanced charm work, and quite the difficult thing to master."

"But how does it work?" I asked. "I tried it with the Flipendo, but nothing happens."

"Well," Filius' amusement didn't seem to end, "If you had managed something, Mister Umbrus, I would have felt elated. Such mastery of magic in someone so young would be incredible. Attempting spells in non verbal, or even wandless forms are usually things all students try at first, but they are never prepared for the kind of mental discipline they need until they become older, and wiser." He flexed his index finger, and a dancing cupcake emerged from the drawer of his desk.

It began to happily bounce back and forth, rolling a bit, "I would rather you sought out enjoyment in your school life, Mister Umbrus. You are quite the conscientious boy, clearly wise beyond your years, but don't forget that these are the best years of your life," he grinned, and made his index finger do a circle. The cupcake did a back-flip jump in reply and landed flawlessly on the table's surface.

"I know that, professor," I replied with a smile as the cupcake came to a halt in front of me. "But...I love these sort of challenges," I added, taking a bite of the cupcake. "And it's magic professor. How could studying it not be wonderful by itself?"

Professor Flitwick laughed, "Ah, the wonder in the eyes of a first year student is something that I never tire of seeing." His smile remained on his face, even as he shook his head. "It's sad how a few years of Magical Theory will transform it into a chagrined expression. Try to keep that sense of wonderment tight, Mister Umbrus."

I nodded, and left with another cupcake in my hands.

Those were quite some tasty cupcakes to begin with.

I was going down the spiraling staircase, minding my own business, when something cold slithered down my spine.

I froze.

It was a literal slithering cold sensation that suddenly began to expand through my clothes.

My eyes widened as I saw worms, squirming, countless worms pour out from my robes and clothes as a cold shower of water hit me straight in the face.

"Got another ickle firsty with the Whizzing Worms!" the voice of one of the Weasley Twin echoed on the upper floor of the staircase.

I remained dutifully still. A few students passed me by, but none knew what to do, apparently, and so they did nothing.

I remained there, quite calm.

Then, I calmly walked my way up to the seventh floor, stepped into the Room of Requirement, and dropped all of my clothes into a nearby bin. There were hundreds of baths in the room now, all filled with hot water.

I scrubbed myself clean.

"First, I kill the Weasleys," I growled.

"Then, I conquer this world and make pranking a capital offense."

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Chapter Twelve

The Thirty-First of October rolled by in silence. Amidst people cheering for the holiday themed dining hall, in the middle of the dinner hall, I ate in silence and pondered my life choices. Soon enough, a panting Quirrell would step inside the hall and yell about a Troll in the dungeon. Soon enough, we'd all be sent to our rooms in wait. Soon enough, two first years would end up fighting a giant troll to save another first year girl.

They'd manage, and everything would end up in glory.

Then, the reason I was chewing on my dinner was because I was waiting for Quirrell's abrupt entrance into the room. He had left a while before, and was clearly in the process of instructing the troll on what to do. As if on cue, someone tapped my shoulder and caught my attention.

"Happy Halloween!" fizzy-hair said with a forced smile.

"Happy Halloween," I returned, not really understanding the cheer, but accepting it all the same. I furrowed my brows. "You arrived only now?"

She grimaced and looked away. "I was...late, because of studying."

"Ah," I nodded, wisely. "That is something that might happen, getting lost in one's own world." I glanced to my side, and then scuttled slightly to the right, moving my plates and the dishes at the same time. Then, I tapped with the open palm of my hand on the table. "Nitwit, can I get another set of plates here, please?"

As if on cue, they appeared.

This wasn't wandless magic. This was wisdom and tickling a pear down in the bellies of the kitchen. The strange words spoken by Dumbledore weren't mysterious magical keywords tied to runes or something like that. They were simple Elf names, who lived in the kitchen, and would listen in and help those in need.

"Want to sit and tell me what you studied recently?" I asked, with the nonchalance of someone who would burn down the apartheid one uncaring action at the time.

"H-how did you do that?" fizzy-hair asked in disbelief. The sad thing was that I couldn't really tell her, since I had no prior knowledge of the kitchen, saying I had gone inside the kitchen and listened in to the House Elves would do absolutely nothing but make me spout some drivel. Thus, I picked the better option.

"Magic," I twirled my fingers, "wisdom, wits and knowledge."

"Can I even sit here?" fizzy-hair asked.

"Good question," I replied. "Professor Flitwick!" I yelled, waving my hand towards the diminutive man by the professors' table. "Can my friend who's in Gryffindor sit by my side?! We're discussing magical theories and I think it would be silly to do so from one side of the room to the other!"

Professor Flitwick blinked, stood slightly up, and then gave a nod. "That is quite the endearing sight, Mister Umbrus. Ten points to Ravenclaw for such vivid devotion to studies."

With his permission thus granted, none of the other students said a word about the Gryffindor taking a seat by my side. Then again, I realized they weren't even bothering with it to begin with. The older years had better things to do, and the younger years didn't really care.

Perhaps later in the year, with the Quidditch matches and the House Cup coming nearer, they'd change their tune, but until then, it was just picking a spot to sit down for lunch and dinner.

"So," I said once she took a seat. "What were you studying that got you so caught up you forgot to come down for dinner?" I queried her as I grabbed hold of the closest bowl, passing it to her. "Don't you know that food's important?"

"It was History of Magic," fizzy-hair answered quite quickly. "The founding of Hogwarts was a fascinating subject; even now, large parts of its dungeons are left unexplored-"

As she kept on speaking, I grinned and nodded every now and then. People didn't really need much to flock to someone's side. They just needed someone willing to listen to them, hear them out, politely speak and show interest in what they did. Now, just like back during my first childhood, such things had never changed.

"Troll!" Quirrell actually interrupted fizzy-hair's words on the unknown seventh tower of Hogwarts, or something like that. "Troll in the dungeon!" he exclaimed, proceeding to most valorously faint a second later.

"Isn't he a renowned Troll hunter?" I said offhandedly, "Why is he fainting from something like a single Troll?" but my words were drowned by the people screaming around us. Children, all of them. It was just a Troll, and we were wizards. Someone could throw the beast a curse and be done with it. First years, stop screaming your lungs out. I'm trying to finish chewing on my mashed potatoes.

"Prefects, bring the students of your houses back to their dormitories," professor McGonagall said.

"Slytherin's dormitories are in the dungeon!" I yelled.

"Mister Umbrus, no, you cannot bring your dinner up the Ravenclaw tower!" professor McGonagall answered, staring at me as I had, indeed, been holding on to my plate and my fork.

"But it's my dinner!" I stressed out, much to the disbelief on the faces of those around me. It wasn't like there was anything to worry about. Honestly, this level of shocked surprise in everyone else was what was worrying. It was just a Troll. An Avada Kedavra or a Sectumsempra would deal with it easily. Hell, a Wingardium Leviosa dealt with it in the first place!

"You heard the Deputy-Headmistress," one of the Ravenclaw prefects said staring straight at me, "Leave it."

"You will pry my dinner from my cold dead hands," I retorted snappishly. "It's just a Troll, not a Dragon or something."

I took a spoonful of the mashed potatoes as further accentuation of just how much I cared about not being allowed to bring my dinner up with me. The Prefect spluttered, but thought better than to take away points from his own house. Hence, I ended up victoriously bringing my dinner with me up the flight of stairs to the Ravenclaw tower.

"Listen here," the Ravenclaw prefect rounded up on me after everyone was safely inside, "We do have our oddballs," he added for clarity's sake, "But there's a time for everything and a free-ranging Troll isn't the time to get your dinner finished."

"But how would I be an oddball if I didn't want to finish my dinner with a Troll nearby?" I retorted, puzzled by the prefect's logic. "Being an oddball does mean doing odd stuff in wildly inappropriate moments, does it not?" I had finished my dinner in the meantime, thus, I hazarded tapping on the wooden table nearby. "Oddment? You can take the dirty plate and the cutlery, thank you."

The plate and the cutlery disappeared in an instant.

I then beamed a smile at the Ravenclaw prefect's expression. If I had a photographic machine, I'd take a picture. I didn't have one, so all I could do was try to remember this day, and the poor boy's expression.

The Troll in the dungeons was dangerous...

...but more dangerous was the Troll-me.

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#143

Chapter Thirteen

The next day was the first of November. The excitement died out, and just as expected, Gryffindor house had received some points. Probably due to the Troll accident. If I had dealt with it, then maybe Ravenclaw would have received the points. I didn't care about the House Cup, and about risking my life while awfully unprepared, and so I blissfully went down for breakfast.

"Harry Potter captured the Troll in the girls' bathroom," was making the rounds at the Ravenclaw table. "He and Weasley got points for it," someone else whispered. Well, clearly they did. Hermione was the one who got points taken away for attempting to challenge the Troll, or at least, lying about it to the professors. That was what memory reminded me, and so as I felt a hand tap on my side, I scuttled further away to allow Fizzy-Hair to take a seat.

"So," I said. "How does it feel to be in the same house as the great Harry Potter and his Weasley friend? They dealt with the Troll with surprising ease, didn't they?"

Fizzy-hair muttered something under her breath. "Stupid boys," she said. "That's what they are. Gits."

I raised an eyebrow. "No love lost?"

"They're just gits," fizzy-hair grumbled. "They call me names and are insufferable."

"Uhm, I see," I acquiesced. "Guess being a hero does not make someone a saint." Poor little Fizzy-Hair, truly fighting a losing battle against the trio of protagonist and...I blinked. I blinked as I vaguely remembered, no, actually, I sheer-out remembered, that the trio never really got around to calling anyone names. At least, not anyone who wasn't in Slytherin, and the only one they did it to was a single girl.

Dread pooled at the bottom of my stomach.

"Still," I continued, "it's unfair to expect children to be wise beyond their ages, Hermione."

Fizzy-hair rolled her eyes. "You're not like that."

"Well, I'm a Ravenclaw, Hermione," I said once more, dread starting to rise through my spine. She wasn't denying it, was she? Oh hell what had I done. "We are wise, witty and also odd."

Why hadn't I paid attention when they called the names for the Sorting Hat? If I had, I would have realized earlier whom Hermione was. Fizzy-Hair, why were you Hermione!? Why couldn't you be some random cardboard cut-out character and not the original author's self-modeled character that solves ninety percent of the problems by herself? Hermione! You need to go help the two dunderheads! Go be with them, not me! They'll die! I'm pretty sure they'll die if you aren't there to help them!

"I should have gone into Ravenclaw," Hermione mumbled, "The Sorting Hat wanted to put me there."

I awkwardly smiled. No, you shouldn't have. You should have stayed in Gryffindor, made a budding friendship with those two you are now calling gits, and then made sure to save their asses whenever they needed it. You are the Deus Ex Machina this story deserves, Miss Granger, and you need to go where you are needed.

"We are what we choose to be," I mused. "Not what we wish to be," I continued. "You chose Gryffindor, perhaps that is because you want to be a Gryffindor. Why should it be a bad thing that you seek to become someone else?" I patted my chest. "I want to become a musician. Maybe tomorrow, I'll be an Auror."

Judging by how deadly things would become, I'd need to become a frigging miracle worker.

All right, I needed a change of plans. How did I deal with the Philosopher's Stone now that Hermione wouldn't help Harry and Ron survive it? The answer was simple. I had to steal it first.

No, wait, that was a foolish endeavor. I refused to steal something by battling monstrous odds. I'd leave the Philosopher Stone right where it was. I could, however, ward it off? How would that even work? I'd need to keep my wits about me and find the right moment to interfere.

Or perhaps I'd have no choice but to actually join forces with Harry and Ron, just so I could throw Hermione in the mix and ensure she'd do what was needed to be done.

I did not fancy my chances. I did not like my chances. I did not wish to test my chances.

"So, what do you think?" Hermione asked, and I found myself dimly realizing I had outright blocked what she had said before.

"I'm sorry, but I'm always half-asleep in the morning, and I didn't catch what you said," I continued, being as innocent as possible.

"Study schedules," Hermione said. "We need to plan study schedules around not just the exams, but also the mid-year test. I'm sure they'll do them before, or shortly after the Christmas break, so..."

I nodded.

And wasn't that another can of worms. Did I even have the Galleons to buy Christmas gifts? Did I get some kind of allowance from the orphan-funds? How was I even supposed to know that? Could I even work as an eleven year old?

My questions needed answers.

Answers only a wise person could give me.

"No, Mister Umbrus, the orphan fund does not provide orphans with an allowance," Professor McGonagall answered me as kindly as she could, while I sipped on tea and ate a scone in her office. "And no, students cannot work if they are not past their OWLS."

"But then, how am I supposed to buy Christmas gifts for my friends?" I asked as innocently as possible. The look on Professor McGonagall's face told me that I hit her withered, cold heart of a Scottish Matron straight on. "I mean, if it's work, I'm sure I can do something. There's magic. I could learn cleaning charms or..."

"Mister Umbrus, there is no need for that," Professor McGonagall stressed. "Most often than not, what matters for a gift is not the cost, but the thought of it. Perhaps you could get two snitches with one seeker if you used transfiguration?"

I blinked. That was a great idea.

My thoughts must have been clear, because McGonagall's expression lifted a bit. "I suggest you practice on stones, and make simple crafts. Photograph frames, for example, or hair clips," she took a small breath, "And please do not make them explode. When you have done so, you can come by and I will put a charm on them to make the transfiguration permanent."

"Professor," I said. "Thank you."

I had two months to get something done with transfiguration.

How hard could it be?

"Hello ma'am Pomfrey," I said with a tiny smile.

"Mister Umbrus," Madam Pomfrey replied, "Is that a rock lodged in your stomach?"

"I thought removing it would make me bleed to death," I answered with a pained expression, half-crumbling inside the infirmary.

It was not my fault stone had a different viciousness factor from hairclips.

I had just changed a two into a dog-mouse-kitten! It wasn't supposed to work that way!

Transfiguration, my bane...

...why must you be so useful, and so frigging out of reach!?

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#160

Chapter Fourteen

There was a certain sense of euphoria in discovering that for once, certain kinds of magic came naturally to me. There also was a certain sense of defeat, as the tubas seemed to herald it with my shaking of shoulders. I twitched my wand, and a clarinet would speak up. I moved a finger of my left hand, and the trombone would answer. The spell made one the leader of an invisible orchestra, but it didn't help you in realizing where every single instrument was, or how to work with them.

The flutes would sometimes go off-key for no reason. The pianist seemed to have a will of its own.

I stared at the empty Room of Requirement, half wondering if perhaps I should concentrate on other, more damaging spells. As things went, though, I felt at ease. Swishing the wand produced music, and while terribly off-key, and anything but genuinely interesting, it was still something to keep my mind off my troubles with the future of this world.

"Da-da-da-dum," I tapped my wand against the air, moving my left hand in unison. The drums echoed, a clarinet took the cue to squeak out a few tunes. "Violins only," I said, spinning the tip of my wand and receiving a warbled nonsense from the invisible violinists.

"Everyone together," I said in the end, delivering one final wave of the wand for the entire orchestra to answer in tandem. I finished the spell, and shook my head. It had come easily, but practice would make it perfect. Until then, there was a Quidditch match incoming. Was it the one where Harry risked his life? Well, since everyone would be present, then...Hermione would stumble onto Quirrell by chance, if she sat at her usual place.

Already, I had to sacrifice my free time to watch a stupid Quidditch match. My seats would need to be close to the professors' stands, which meant I'd have to go there in time to catch the best seats.

"It's Gryffindor against Slytherin," someone muttered on that fateful day, "Slytherin's going to win."

I hummed, nonchalantly. My eyes zeroed in on my target, Professor Quirrell, while Hermione was instead seated with the Gryffindors that had come to assist. Since the match was the first of the season, everyone wanted to be present. I sighed as I took one of the worst seats possible to watch the game, but one of the best to intervene the moment Quirrell tried anything.

The match began, Harry Potter's form losing itself amidst the other players. The wind was kind-of chilly, the November month not one of the bests to have outdoor sports events, but apparently it would be too much to ask for a dome to keep everyone warm now, would it?

"Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor seeker!" the commentator spoke, "Which could happen to anyone, really!" some chuckled at the remarks, the commentator actually doing a nice job at making the game interesting to watch. Minutes went by, my eyes zeroing in on Harry Potter, waiting for the moment his broomstick would stop obeying him. The rails of canon were still safe, nothing had broken them yet.

And indeed, the broomstick suddenly lurched from beneath Harry Potter's body, as if held by a will of its own. The immediately violent lurches turned softer a few seconds later, but my body was already on the move.

I could see Snape whisper the counter-curse, and I could see Quirrell whisper the curse. Nobody else had noticed them. Nobody else but me to begin with.

Everyone's eyes were on Harry Potter trying his hardest not to die. He wouldn't even die from such a height, just get some broken bones. Seriously, Voldemort could have done so much more with an Avada Kedavra in the middle of the night rather than a curse, but this wasn't Lord Voldemort, this was Quirrell. The squeamish, stuttering Quirrell who tried to use roundabout ways to get things done, and would end up defeated by a trio of eleven year old without even a stupid dog by their side.

Thus, for the simple man who made a shitty choice, the simplest solution would work.

If Hermione had managed to make Quirrell tumble by mistake, then why wouldn't I get the same result? Clearly, as I actually went behind him and slammed my elbow into his back, he tumbled down with surprising ease. I then removed myself from the crowd as fast as possible, mixing in with the other students suddenly holding their breath at Harry Potter's abrupt descent. He landed without injury, but I was busier returning to my spot in the crowd.

I had not moved an inch from my spot, for my spot was I, and I was my spot. Clearly, I had no reason to intercept and knock down professor Quirrell because I was a good Ravenclaw, and good Ravenclaws do not push down their Voldemort-possessed professors.

Gryffindor won the cup, Harry having nearly swallowed the golden snitch he was supposed to capture, and as they cherished the day and triumphantly, I returned to my practice in the silence of the Room of Requirements.

As things went by, I reckoned the biggest problem would be ensuring Quirrell's destruction. Perhaps I could ask Harry to give a high-five to the professor? My wand twitched in my hand as I smiled in the general direction of the glittering green sparks. The poor mannequin's straw began to burn, and I swung a Flipendo its way to make it spin and douse out the flames.

Strangely enough, sparks, flames and anything flashy did come more easily to the wand than the rest.

"Next spell on the list," I grumbled as I flipped my Defense against the Dark Arts book, "Is the Fumos one."

A spiral of the wand, a spoken word, and thick smoke should have left the tip of my wand. In my circumstance, the hot smoke smelled more like ashes. "Oi now," I grunted as I swished the wand right and left, the smoke still pouring out. "Oi!" I grunted as I swung it up and down. Much to my surprise, I had expected the spell not to start, or at least not keep going off like this once it became clear I had failed it.

Instead spoke kept pouring out, quickly filling the room in a kind-of London-like atmosphere, if with smoke and ashes.

Strangely enough, the smoke was still breathable.

"Notice to self," I muttered in the middle of the smoke cloud, trying my hardest to peer through it, "First read how to stop the spell, then practice the spell," I tried to flick through the spell's description and pages, but in the middle of this ashen mist, it was ludicrous to as much as try. Well, the spell would eventually end. At the very least, I could get some practice done in poor atmospheric conditions?

I had to look at the bright side.

"Just in case," I whispered, "if I'm not wrong...the dog, the Lumos Solem, then the Accio, the Chessboard, the Troll and...the logical potion puzzle?" I could get through the dog with a bit of practice on the orchestral spell, and the Lumos would not need much practice to further improve. The Troll could be dealt with using a Wingardium Leviosa, but the Accio and the Chessboard were both things that would need to be learned.

Perhaps I could get one of those cheesy three-move winners from some international chess championship or something of the sort. I doubted that whichever professor had planned the chessboard had actually accounted for those incredibly smart, cunning, devious and quite quick victories if the opponent wasn't a master-class chess-master in his own rights.

"Why am I thinking about going through the gauntlet of the Philosopher Stone?" I muttered in the depths of the mist. "I don't want the Philosopher Stone. I don't want to go on the crazy train."

Silence, and the sparkling every now and the of some flickers of ash, was all the answer I got.

I coughed in my closed fist, and chuckled as I lifted my wand.

"Symphonia Cantatio," the ashen mist seemed to twirl in front of my eyes, ethereal forms manifesting in a sort of ghastly orchestral composition. Normally invisible, their outlines were visible now thanks to the smoke.

I raised my right wand and my left hand together, and the orchestral instruments stood at the ready.

"And one," I brought both hands down, "And two," I brought them back up, "And three..."

One of the violins sharply shrieked, as if killing a pig.

And they said that magical music was without mistakes...

...rather, magical music was a mistake waiting to happen.

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#165

Chapter Fifteen

If you know your enemy, but not yourself, you will win as many times as you lose. If you know neither yourself, nor your enemy, you will always lose. If you know both, you will never lose.

Sun Tzu, the pearls of wisdom dispenser, wasn't that wrong. Sure, being water rather than wood would probably fly over the heads of the rest of the students in my year, but as I gingerly proceeded to scribble down the latest notes, I found myself neared by the least expected of sources.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley both neared, though one looked more torn than the other, and strangely enough it was the Weasley guy. The only reason I recognized the Weasley was the red hair, and Harry Potter's forehead sported a lightning bolt scar.

"Uhm...you're that Shade guy, right?" the Weasley asked, looking at me as if I was inches away from tearing his head off. I was in the library, and I wouldn't tear anyone's head off. Thus, I didn't understand all of this fear in his body. Well, perhaps it wasn't fear, but guilt? Anxiousness for the upcoming exams?

"Yes," I answered. "That would be me."

"Well, see, we wanted to apologize," Ron blurted out. "To Hermione that is," he continued as I had meanwhile raised an eyebrow in his direction. "We said some nasty things back at Halloween and..." his voice trailed off.

"Why are you coming to me with this?" I replied, "Shouldn't you tell her, rather than me?"

Harry Potter grimaced ever so slightly. "She needs to apologize too," Ron Weasley continued, "It's true we called her a know-it-all bookworm, but she's called us gits."

"Ah," I acquiesced. "You want it to be a double-apology," I looked at them both. "That's quite the difficult conundrum."

"What's an undrum got to do with it?" Ron asked, and I simply chuckled at the question.

"No, I meant that it's quite a pickle," I glanced up at the ceiling of the library, and at the books fluttering high overhead. "Since Christmas' coming, you could perhaps send her something and write her a note with how sorry you are? I could put in a good word and try to get her to apologize too."

"That would be great," Harry said. "Do you know what she'd like?"

"A book," I answered nonchalantly, "Any book would do, perhaps a book on famous wizards?" I added as a suggestion.

Somehow, I ended up with the duo of Gryffindors sat at my table, doing their homework. Had I been invaded by the main cast? No, please, this is Switzerland. Kindly go and invade another country that wishes to fight Lord Voldemort. This place is safe, its inhabitants kind.

I wondered if they were headed for the philosopher's stone too. Would they seek out Nicholas Flamel on their own? Would they find out-

"Hey mate," Ron Weasley said, catching my attention, "You mind if I look at your homework?"

"Not a problem," I shrugged, "Which one?"

Ron Weasley gave me a chagrined look. "A...All of them?"

I chuckled, and then passed the parchments over. "You can have a look too if you want," I added towards Harry Potter, who seemed actually interested himself in my homework. I was the pusher that could, the knowledge-deliver, the...had I usurped Hermione's spot in the trio? No. I refused. Hermione, come back right this instant. I would make you resume your spot, and then disappear back in the background.

My place was in the safety of the behind-the-scenes.

I wondered where Hermione had gone for the day though. Had she neared only to back away once seeing those two? It was puzzling. Yet all puzzles had an answer, and I found mine a couple of tables away once the two left, just behind another shelf. The fizzy-haired Hermione was studying some kind of book on mythological creatures. I took a seat, and then waited patiently.

"You done letting them copy your homework?" Hermione asked, the scowl on her face clearly showing, just like the tone of voice.

"It's on them," I answered with a shrug. "But they're good at heart," I continued.

"They're still gits," Hermione huffed. "Foolish gits."

"They wanted to apologize about calling you names," I pressed on, nonchalantly. "I suggested they write you a note and give you a Christmas present."

Hermione looked contrite at that, her displeasure strangely starting to melt. "It's not like I didn't call them things too," she muttered.

"Well, then why don't you gift them something for Christmas too?" I replied. "And write them a note apologizing? That way, when Christmas morning comes, you'll have both apologized at the same time."

Hermione nodded, strangely looking happier.

I inwardly sighed in relief, the month of November perhaps the last month I'd see Hermione sticking with me rather than the duo of Gryffindors. My scribbling came to a halt as I dimly realized the book Hermione had been reading.

"Why are you reading that book?" I asked in a hushed whisper.

Hermione looked at the book in her hands, and then looked at me, ashamed. "It's a secret," she whispered back.

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "A secret, uh," I mused. "Mythological creatures," I rubbed my chin. "If it were extra homework, it would History of Magic or Potions, I guess. You don't want to admit you got into troubles with Binns or Snape?"

Hermione spluttered, "It's not that!" she huffed, "It's a three-headed dog that..." she quickly clamped both hands against her mouth.

"Ah, a Cerberos, the guardian of the afterlife in Greek Mythology," I acquiesced. "The mythological hero that went to rescue his beloved played his harp and let him pass," I continued, glancing at Hermione's surprised expression. Had this passed the censor? Well, it wasn't like this knowledge was something foreign to me. It was my own knowledge, and I'd have answered like this even without knowing the truth about Fluffy.

"That's...yes," Hermione muttered, "That's it." She coughed, awkwardly trying to change the argument. "It's for a...friend. She found one and it's really dangerous, so she was wondering why it's protecting a trapdoor."

A smile threatened to form on my lips. "Probably to prevent nosy first years from going through," I said nonchalantly. "And keep terrible secrets hidden. Maybe there's the torture chambers down there?"

Hermione huffed, "Torture chambers have been removed in Hogwarts since a hundred years, Shade. It's written in Hogwarts, a history."

"Yes, removed, but not destroyed," I wriggled my eyebrows. "If you're a really bad first year, maybe they send you past the three-headed dog to suffer!"

Hermione shook her head. "It's the forbidden corridor, even the Headmaster said not to go in there."

"Course, otherwise you'd spring your fellow firsties out of their torture," I continued. My grin was clearly showing, and also infectious, since Hermione's own lips twitched in a smile.

Inside my head, I whistled a catchy tune.

Canon railways here I come, let me drop the cargo and be off...

...speaking of cargo, when was the dragon supposed to arrive anyway?

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#175

Chapter Sixteen

I looked at the crafts in front of me. The crafts looked back. Professor McGonagall looked at them, examined them carefully, and then gave a nod of her head.

"Quite the astounding work, Mister Umbrus," she grabbed hold of one of the objects, a large mug veined with shiny, glittering metal. The words N°1 Transfiguration Professor were etched on it. Her lips threatened to smile, but she quickly schooled her features. "You will need to write a note on them. Hogwarts' house elves will take care of the deliveries if they're within the castle, and if not, then you should notify your head of the House in time to have the owls sent."

"Thank you professor," I said. "Uhm..." I continued, fidgeting slightly. "About Transfiguration, could I perhaps know what the next practical will be?" I asked, "I don't want points if I get the transfiguration right on the first try," I quickly added before she could speak, "I just don't want to blow up the classroom and everyone in it." I rubbed the back of my head, looking sideways. "Even getting these right, the rocks blew more often than not."

Clearly, stones weren't made of a singular material, but of a multitude of them. With each different material, the transfiguration grew in complexity.

Even after getting the mug right, in order to get the words I had no choice but to further transfigure the object. This added another layer to it. It had taken me nearly a month to get the cup done, and the lack of stones near the lake were an indicator of it.

On the plus side, I had developed an odd penchant for picking the smoothest and shiniest rocks.

"I see," Professor McGonagall mused. "I suppose studying ahead would do you no harm, Mister Umbrus." Or rather, it would bring no harm to the rest of the class.

She flicked her wand, and the various gifts ended up wrapped, with magic, into brightly colored paper wrappings. There even was a golden ribbon for each of them.

"Thank you professor," I spoke. "You're the best."

"Mister Umbrus, if you do not have any further need of my assistance, do heed my counsel and have the gifts delivered," professor McGonagall said, trying to hold her stern, Scottish Matron-sternness. I simply smiled at her and stepped out of her office with a skip to my step, the knowledge that we'd use animals and turn them into matchboxes firmly safeguarded, and nearly ended up hitting against Professor Dumbledore, who seemed to be holding on to a smile of his own.

"Ah, Mister Umbrus," he smiled, "I dare say you have come from tea and scones with dear Minerva rather than a detention."

I looked up at the old, bearded man and grinned back. "Yes, professor. I managed to get the Christmas gifts transfigured in time," I held them up. The cup, which was now wrapped, and a few others formed quite the bundle of gifts. It had been literally decades since I had last made something to gift to someone else.

Nine times out of ten, buying it online and having it delivered was the easiest solution.

"I see," his eyes twinkled. "I suppose that it will be ten points to Ravenclaw, for such a wonderful idea for Christmas," he winked in my direction.

"Thank you professor," I answered, bidding him goodbye and then rushing to get the notes ready and the gifts finished.

The weather had taken a turn for the cold, and as I glanced out of the castle's windows, all that I saw was ice and frost. "The cold never bothered me anyway," I hummed as I slid past a few paintings, a couple of armors, and avoided going through some ghosts.

My winter boots crunched the snow below my feet as I stood outside, near the edge of Hogwarts' lake.

I patiently looked at the shimmering water, and at the bubbles that every now and then left the depths of it. "Miss Squid," I hazarded, "You don't have some live fish perchance, do you?"

I received no reply. Well, this was plan A for transfiguration practice. Plan B involved walking along the edge of the lake, trying to see if anything at all neared it for a drink. Apparently it did not, thus after an hour spent out in the cold, I ended up looking at the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Then my wisdom check succeeded on a DC minus ninety, and I swiftly traced my steps back to the large, wooden door of Hagrid's hut.

I knocked.

The bearded giant opened the door and I looked up, up, and even further up to try to get a look at his face. "What do ya need?" he asked, his voice gruff and rough.

"Do you perchance have any idea where I can find small animals?" I queried. "Like field mice, or mouses, or rats even..."

The giant stared at me briefly. I kept my look up. "Ya looking for a pet or sumthing?"

"It's for transfiguration practice," I replied.

The giant furrowed his large, bushy brows, and then rubbed his beard. "Wait a second, will ya?" he went inside, and then came out with a large dog by his side. The dog looked at me and lunged. I could have avoided it, but I knew better. I had had a large dog myself. The solution was to lunge back and hug the neck. That way, you didn't end up falling but merely blocked the momentum.

"Who's a cute doggo-woffo-wuffo?" I said excitedly, rubbing the large dog's back as it slobbered over my face. Deep down, the saliva disgusted me. Further deep down, I would need to wash myself thoroughly as soon as possible. Even deeper down, I didn't really care because the dog was the best doggo ever. It woofed back, and I chuckled as I rubbed its head.

"Well would ya look at that," Hagrid mused, "I normally haf'ta get him to let go." I used my robes' arms to remove the slobber from my face, and then looked up at the giant man.

"I had a big dog once," I quipped. "I don't see the point in small ones. You need dogs, not pret-a-porter."

"Whatever that is, I agree with ya," Hagrid laughed. "Name's Hagrid! The gamekeeper here at Hogwarts," he smiled, "You're a firstie, ain't ya?"

"That I am," I nodded back. "My name's Shade, it's a pleasure to meet you," I extended my hand up, and the giant looked briefly at it before shrugging, and engulfing my entire hand and most of my arm in the shake he then gave.

"Aw, ye'r an a'right sort," he said. "Now, Fang!" he looked at his dog, who in turn looked up with a woof. "Go fetch some mice, will ya?"

The dog barked some more, and then trotted off. He plunged his face into the snow, sniffed, and then whined as it pitifully sat down. Hagrid sighed by my side. "He doesn't like the cold very much," Hagrid muttered, "I need to keep him moving, ya know? What's the point of a dog if it gets fat? Come on, you lazy bum! Find some mice!" and with that said, the afternoon went by chilling in the snow, recovering half-frozen, half-dead mice.

I had a sack of those by the time I stepped into the Room of Requirements.

Thankfully, the Room provided a glass tank for them.

Unfortunately, it also provided cleaning tools, like pure alcohol and a few empty barrels that had previously been used by some torture-master, due to the dry blood within.

"Your faith in my abilities is...nonexistent, but then again I'm the one who asked for all this stuff so..." I muttered as I emptied the bag's contents into the tank, closing it firmly to avoid the mice from running away, "I'm sorry little guys." I grimaced at the sight of the field mice.

"It's like when they have you vivisection frogs at school, or owl feces," I muttered to myself. I grabbed hold of a mouse with my gloves on, put it inside a smaller glass tank, and then raised my wand. I closed my eyes, took deep breaths, and then pointed my wand down at the little creature.

I didn't want to make it explode. Anything but that was acceptable. Even a failure, even a-

There was a pop.

The barf-bag nearby proved, beyond a shred of doubt, that I might not have been the best wizard in existence...

...but at least I was the most prepared.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

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My . Since people kept asking. I'll keep writing wherever and whenever, but if you want to feel like one of the coffees I drink is offered by you, feel free.

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#194

Chapter Seventeen

Christmas morning came after the Christmas Nightmare. Hogwarts had emptied of those who would go back home for their holidays, thus leaving the castle pretty much empty of all but a few individuals, and among them were the Weasley Twins. If before my chances of being pranked were low, they spiked incredibly high after the lack of valid targets came to the front of their wicked, wretched minds.

Though perhaps due to the Christmas spirit inhabiting those scum-filled villains, it ended amiably with near-choking toffees of some kind and itching powder that took a whole day to wash out.

The saving grace was that there were others in the same position, and some of the Slytherins had it even worse.

Still, Christmas Morning came and I headed for the tree that had appeared in the middle of the night in the middle of the room I shared with the other Ravenclaw students, of whom I had exchanged nary a word after my start at Hogwarts. I was sure they didn't mind; everyone was a bit odd, and if my oddity meant social exclusion, then it was a far cry from going around with a jellyfish on my head.

Though by the time I checked my gifts, I found myself honestly surprised.

I had expected a Christmas gift from Hermione, and I had received an agenda. Quite the somber, and thoughtful gift for the likes of me. Unfortunately, I'd probably never use it. I had gifted her a silvery hair-pin, which again I doubted she would use, but it was the thought that counted. And the many rocks that had died to bring it forth would have their sacrifice honored. Then came a gift from McGonagall, a book on transfiguration magic. How to prevent transfiguration mishaps, common remedies and safeguards. The author was a certain Brockenhurts Hilsafe and it took me a while to peg the name down.

Seriously, I was glad the internal consistency on naming factors remained untouched throughout the silliness of it all.

I grinned in surprise at seeing Dumbledore's gift. I had given the man a rock mug, just like professor McGonagall, with the words N°1 Headmaster etched on it. I had done the same for pretty much all the professors, just to avoid being troublesome. By next year I'd need to get transfiguration down to the point where I could make earmuffs, but in order to do that easily, I'd need more living sacrifices.

My mind reeled away from the dark thoughts. So many mice, so much blood, and in the end they had stopped popping and started transforming into unsightly variants of their intended target.

"They will be honored," I sighed as I headed down for breakfast. The Christmas holidays had everyone sitting at the same table, thus I ended up right in front of my accursed enemies, the Weasley twins. By my side was Harry Potter wearing a Weasley jumper, with further down Ron Weasley. A few other students of various houses were around us, but those were the ones I could name comfortably.

I dimly realized that while not all of the professors sported their gifted cups -Quirrell and Snape, in particular, didn't have one- everyone else seemed to. I reckoned it was merely kindness for the orphan; or perhaps they did lack big, sturdy mugs meant for sipping liters of tea in their morning routines. Next year, I'd try adding a permanent heating charm to the next model, and then a self-stirring charm.

My future as a seller of magical mugs would skyrocket. Perhaps even a venom tester could be inserted? That was quite the intelligent idea.

I took a bite out of a crumpet, drank a sip of tea, and it took me a moment to realize that rather than tea, I'd been served coffee. I looked down at the contents of my cup, and grinned. "Thanks, Oddment," I whispered to myself, tapping the table's surface.

Truly, it was a glorious Christmas morning.

Christmas afternoon, I spend in a quite unsavory way.

"I think the world would be a better place if I stopped killing mammals, and proceeded with fishes," I remarked to myself, staring at the wooden branch taken from the very outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Literally, I refused to step inside. If I found a dead branch lying there, then I'd take it. Otherwise, I'd leave it there. I dragged it all the way to the edge of the lake, and then looked down at it.

"I need to make a wooden branch into a wooden pole. It's literally the same thing, only one's sturdy and the other's not. One's straight, and one's not. It's not supposed to be hard," I muttered to myself, "So please, can we get along?" I took a deep breath, whispered words of encouragement, and then touched with the tip of my wand the edge of the branch.

I threw my body away even before opening my eyes. I cradled my head, expecting my ears to ring, an explosion, and the familiar sensation of wood digging into my flesh. The snow was cold, and as I hesitantly raised my head, I witnessed a miracle.

I had made a fishing pole.

I had finally made a functional transfiguration without an explosion.

I quietly got up, and neared with a look of pure awe the thing. I nervously touched the edge of it, feeling the smoothness and understanding that yes, indeed, it had been done.

"Thank you," I said, not really knowing to whom I had said it. I raised the fishing pole up, and then realized I needed some kind of string to attach to it. I glanced down at the grass blades, and at the longer strings of wild plants without flowers upon them. Dried, brownish stalks would work well enough once transfigured.

And what was the worst that could happen? Wood could become shrapnel. It wasn't like grass blades could become something dangerous in turning from grass into string now, could they?

As it turned out, things didn't need to become shrapnel in order to annoy me.

"Blimey! Did someone tie you up?" Ron Weasley asked, as he and Harry Potter were apparently enjoying the Christmas weather. Thankfully, they had gone outside to play with the snow, and since I had been snaking my way back towards the castle with a foul humor, they met me midway.

I should have specified the string's dimension, as well as just how tight I wanted it. I had forgotten that, and thus I had ended up salami-tied in a bundle of sharp string, which had left me to worm my way back towards the School hoping for rescue.

"Cut me free, please," I said, trying to keep my frustration at bay. "Transfiguration does not agree with me," I continued, much to the duo's consternation. Still, they managed to get a sharp rock and snap at the string, freeing me from my self-made prison.

My wrists could breathe.

My body could finally stand up.

I had ice in unmentionable places...

...but I would catch a fish if it was the last thing that I did.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

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My . Since people kept asking. I'll keep writing wherever and whenever, but if you want to feel like one of the coffees I drink is offered by you, feel free.

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#206

Chapter Eighteen

When life gives you lemon, make lemonade. When it gives you fish, multiply it. When it gives you water, turn it into wine. Given basic blocks, transform them. The child knows not what a pyramid is, but give him blocks of wood and he'll stack them up. Make one a pyramidal-shaped one, the others ever-growing cubes, and while he may not stack them all properly, he'll know which one goes last on top.

Then, it's all a matter of artistic preferences.

"Encore," I said, swinging my wand with the graciousness of an angry sea lion. "Get the violins in shape!" I snarled, the violins' quartet picking the pace up. With this magical orchestra, I did not need kindness, or gentleness. I needed a firm grip, an even firmer idea of the score in my head, and an iron fist.

"The tuba will sing, or it will shatter!" I snapped in the direction of the tuba, who had been trying to stop its music. It sang once more with renewed vigor. "Come on lads," I cheered them further, "We're nearly there!"

The drums began their score. The violas joined the violins. Somewhere in the back, a piano played. My left hand directed the strings, my right one with the wand decided the pitches. I had finally understood some of the logic. The left hand pointed at an instrument in an invisible orchestra, depending on the number of fingers pointing at the instrument in question, I was implying different things.

The right hand gave the rhythm and the volume.

"Point three fingers at the clarinet, get him to go on a solo performance," I muttered, glancing down at the agenda which, contrary to my expectations, I had been filling with the instructions on how to properly work the spell.

"Some other people would be practicing deadly curses or the Protego, and here I am, guiding an orchestra of dumb players," I grunted, catching my breath as I called for the general silence, the main violin taking the lead with some kind of warbled country music.

I was getting there. At least, they knew how to make it sound like some specific genre. Now, as soon as I managed to get an electric guitar into the mix, I could move from classical orchestral pieces and orchestral versions of famous pieces into actual electronics.

Christmas had left the place to January. January had surprisingly turned into February. Nobody had died. Nobody had come to bother me. Hermione every now and then hung around to do homework, but now had finally returned to her previous flock. It made sense. She was a busybody who needed to aid the duo of Ron and Harry not kill itself. I remained happily in touch as merely someone to share homework with, but that was all.

I was glad things had been patched up and Gryffindorish-tendencies had won over.

Still, I dimly realized one fine day that I had spent a whole afternoon without human contact, and that strangely bothered me more than it should have. I was sitting at my table in the library, literally considering it mine because I had claimed it under the rights of first come first served, and as I had finished the latest homework, I glanced around. There were other students studying, and doing their things generally, but in groups.

While there I stood, alone.

Thoughts filled my mind of how humans were social creatures, constructs of bonds, people who couldn't live alone without at least some basic contact, and then I took a good look at those thoughts, those inner thoughts of mine, and sighed.

My steps brought me out of the library, and down into the depths of the dungeon. My eyes glanced at the Bloody Baron swishing by, and past him to the potions' classroom, where no one was currently doing lessons. Technically, we could practice our potions only with the agreement of Professor Snape. This in turn meant that if you wanted to practice, you had to stand in front of the classroom and wait until he either came around, or ask him. If you weren't a Slytherin, you'd get a chance at practicing only if you were an OWL student on a meritocratic occasion, and only if you weren't a Gryffindor.

Gryffindors would die poisoned by their own potions rather than ask for extra practice, so in a certain sense it wasn't like Snape was giving them a disservice by refusing to let them practice unless they were lucky enough to come in after someone else had already done so, but still...

I stepped inside, quietly taking an empty spot near the end of the classroom. Professor Snape barely lifted his gaze to look at me, and then returned to his work, uncaring.

I tapped the smooth surface of my potions' desk, "Oddment?" I whispered, and in seconds I had my stuff at the ready.

I flipped open the book on potions, the Forgetfulness Potion coming to the fray. I began to work on it, crushing the valerian sprigs and dipping them in the waters of the river Lethe.

I drew short on them, and winced. Since I was an orphan set to Hogwarts with the Orphan fund, I didn't have the money to order the potions' materials. Thankfully, those materials normally could be asked to the potions' master. Unfortunately, our potions' master was a certain Severus Snape.

"Uhm...professor?" I asked in a whisper, coming to a halt in front of his desk. "Sorry to bother," I added quickly, "But I'm practicing the forgetfulness potion and I don't have enough Lethe water."

Snape's eyes coldly rose from the grading of his homework. "Mister Umbrus," he drawled. "That will be five points from Ravenclaw. A potion-maker is expected to always have all the necessary ingredients at hand before attempting any potion whatsoever. Misjudging quantities is a grievous problem." He then pointed a finger at a cupboard at the far end of the classroom. "Recover what you need from the cupboard. Do not bother me again."

I hastily nodded, and did just that.

Opening the cupboard, I found myself face to face with countless vials, crushed ingredients, and sliced up stuff. Some eyes even stared accusingly at me from within a large glass pitcher, and a few salamander tails twitched within a box.

The show of horrors didn't even faze me, the one man who had killed more mice than a house cat could.

Still, as I rummaged as quietly as possible in the cupboard, my eyes were naturally drawn to a thick book of advanced potion-making. I stared at the book briefly, and then left it there. I needed Lethe Water, not a book scribbled with Severus Snape's corrections on potions.

Also, it would have been a tad difficult to get it out of the room without the man noticing. I did manage to filch a bezoar though, mainly because I could hide it in the sleeve of my robe. I gathered a vial of Lethe water, closed the cupboard, and moved back to my spot to get the potion started and finished.

I brought it up to the professor, who had kept doing the grading of the homework assigned to him. Even though he was an ass, and an horrible person, he still gave grades fairly. Hermione's homework, the latest on the pile, received an Outstanding. Even Harry Potter's one got an Exceeding Expectations.

"Professor," I whispered, "The forgetfulness potion," I awkwardly looked at him lift his face from the latest homework, and glance briefly at it. He gave a curt nod, tapped with his wand the side of the potion, and as the liquid within disappeared entirely, he resumed his grading.

"Professor," I whispered once more, catching his attention as well as his annoyance. "Why did professor Quirrell try to kill Harry Potter?" I muttered.

This got much more than his annoyance. It got his undivided attention. "Mister Umbrus," he hissed. "Such preposterous..."

"You were counter-cursing," I retorted. "He was the one cursing. Why is he still teaching if he tried to kill another student?"

He looked at me.

I looked back at him.

"To discern a curse from a counter-curse," Professor Snape mused, "a Ravenclaw's intelligence is not something to be underestimated, is it?"

"I wasn't interested in the match to begin with," I mumbled.

Professor Snape nodded once, solemnly. "That will be ten points for Ravenclaw, Mister Umbrus," he acquiesced. "Now, return to your practice and speak of this no more."

"I'm not selling another student's life for points, professor," I retorted. "I want to know if this is the kind of thing where you're setting a noose to hang a criminal's neck, or if it's the kind of thing where you can't intervene because you don't want to." I stared into his eyes, "Because the former, I can understand. The latter, I will not."

"You presume too much with your arrogance, Mister Umbrus," professor Snape sneered.

"Intelligence is just one trait of the house, professor," I whispered back. "Wits and wisdom are two others. Wits is about knowing when to press to get a leeway, wisdom is knowing when you need to fold."

"Oh? If it had come from a Slytherin, I would have been impressed," he mused. "Sadly, it's from a Ravenclaw."

"Nobody is born perfect," I dryly replied. Still, Snape maintained eye-contact, and refused to answer.

Was he digging in my head? It probably made sense to him that some student had seen the act rather than the match, and had been witty enough to understand what was going on. What he couldn't probably understand was the knowledge of the difference between a curse and an anti-curse spell. Perhaps he believed I had thrown a coin.

"The headmaster is informed of this," professor Snape caved in, perhaps acknowledging I wouldn't be moving until I got an answered.

"Thank you professor," I said with a nod.

"Also," professor Snape continued, "For talking back to a professor, that will be fifty points from Ravenclaw."

I winced at that.

Still, those were points well-spent.

It proved one fundamental weakness of my Cassandra Curse. As long as I could logically infer things from viewing them, then I could speak and draw conclusions from them. It didn't matter if I had no previous knowledge of what a curse or an anti-curse were. I could infer what they were from the circumstances, and thus actually be allowed to speak of the events.

I returned at my place, and began to brew a herbicide potion.

My dreaded second-best enemy, pollen, would need to be defeated before spring arrived.

For pollen was coming...

...and it would make no prisoners.

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#218

Chapter Nineteen

The violins took their pace. The piano began to play a few hesitant tunes. The drums picked up the rhythm. "Far over..." I hummed as I swished my wand gently, "the misty mountain cold," the violins picked up, a clarinet sang. "to dungeons deep and caverns old," the drums grew in noise.

The ghastly orchestra sang a melody taken from my memories, and it sang it perfectly. My memories became reality, slowly, ever certainly, they proceeded to play as I sang alongside them.

It was a beautiful hymn. I was practicing while outside the Quidditch match continued. Hufflepuff against Gryffindor, with Severus Snape as the referee. It would be quite the biased match, and yet also the quickest. Meanwhile, I practiced my orchestral charm. I reckoned it would earn me a few dozen points with professor Flitwick if I showed it to him once finished.

But first, they'd need to be able to play the Misty Mountains Cold without problems.

By the time I stepped outside, the Quidditch match had ended and students were starting to crowd back in for their afternoon. While the students had formed groups with one another, I, on the other hand, had places to be and people to interact with on a weekly basis.

Namely put, one day I would have my regular tea with scones with professor McGonagall and another my dancing cupcake time with professor Flitwick. I would swing by professor Sprout during a free morning, eating warm and freshly baked cookies while practicing the bubblehead charm under her supervision -one could actually asphyxiate if another wizard didn't pop it in case of miscasting and then I'd make a swing for Dumbledore's office near the end of the week, eating a sherbet lemon and asking him some random questions about his hobbies and his interest.

Some days, I wondered if perhaps I was some kind of super-special kid, but then I realized that no, I wasn't. There were a lot of other students who came and went from their offices, and they all left with frosted lips from cupcake's glaze, or with their breath smelling of tea. I wasn't special, and I didn't want to be special. I was merely more affectionate than other first years, and I liked to hear professor Flitwick's dueling stories.

It was because of him that the straw mannequin within the room of requirement had started to move right and left, to make it harder for me to hit. Holding my left hand behind me, I would swish my wand in the familiar mannerisms of the Flipendo, of the Verdimillious, and in the meantime I would ponder on how to make the spell faster, my steps nimbler, my breathing more even.

I'd sweat seven shirts, and yet not be done. I'd try sidestepping, lunging to the side, casting while rolling out of the way. Some had more success than others. Even so, they meant little if I couldn't get a shield ongoing, or a way to rebound the spell off. The Expelliarmus could actually rebound spells.

The days went by. Unspoken was Quirrell's threat if we ever made eye contact, and if he ever dimly realized I had been the one to throw him off his cursing of Harry Potter. Most of my time, I either spent practicing in the Room of Requirements, which was as safe as I could make her become, or in the library surrounded by other students.

I was minding my own business in that particular case, reading an interesting book on how to simplify the potion-making process for the wizard that just couldn't wait, when someone caught my attention, and I sharply lifted my gaze to come face to face with a certain trio that had the galls to tap on my shoulder.

It was a trio made of two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw.

"May I help you?" I asked in a whisper.

"Can we study with you?" one of the two Hufflepuffs asked. I closed my book on simplifying potion-making processes and gave them a nod. I had already studied the material for the exams and had done the homework too, so I didn't understand what these three could actually want from me.

The Ravenclaw was a blond girl, quiet and seldom heard in the classroom. She had a round face, and wouldn't have looked out of place in a pastry shop. Her name was Amanda, Amanda Brocklehurst, Mandy for her friends. She was apparently friends with the other two Hufflepuffs. The other two were Wayne Hopkins and Megan Jones. The first was a pudgy boy that probably needed a toothbrush and to stop gorging himself on chocolate, with hazel hair and eyes and the latter was someone whose surname I vaguely remembered, perhaps another extended Fanon extra of some kind. She had dark hair and eyes.

"You can, but I'm quite the boring study partner," I replied.

They all sat around me, and pulled out their books and parchments. I glanced briefly at them, and then resumed my own reading. Was I being befriended through force? Was this a kind of orbital befriending thing?

"Would a bezoar work against the forgetfulness potion?" Wayne asked.

"It shouldn't, since it's not a poison," Amanda answered in a whisper.

"But what if it's mixed with a poison?" Megan thought aloud.

I flipped another page. "When would the mixing have occurred?" I asked, "Before or after completion of both the potion and the antidote? Do some ingredients still remain reactive past the bottling?"

"Ah," Wayne said. "If it's bottled before, then it's neither potions but something else."

I nodded, "Makes sense, and if it's mixed after, then it's probably just a poison."

"So it won't work?" Amanda asked.

"Not in my opinion," I quipped. "I may be wrong, but either it's a forgetfulness potion or it's a poison. It can't be both."

"Makes sense," Megan confirmed my words, and thus the trio resumed their scribbling. I resumed my reading, flipping through to the next page. "You already did your homework on the subject?" Megan asked, looking at me.

I looked back at Megan, and gave her a nod. I pulled the parchment out from my folder, and as I did that, Amanda muttered, "Aren't we being a bother, then?"

I shrugged her worry off. "I don't mind the company," I mumbled. "Writing down something, memorizing it, or understanding it are three different things. If I explain it to someone else, I'll understand it further."

When in doubt, find someone who hasn't understood it and then explain it to them as simply as you can. True mastery of a subject does not come when you think you know it. It comes when you are able to explain it properly, and simply, to those who are in need of learning it.

Hence, the reason why study groups were effective if they followed a clear leadership and hierarchy. One learned, studied and then explained. Through the efforts of one, everyone else rose by pulling their own weight.

If someone didn't, then that someone had to be thrown away.

I would not tolerate people coming in just to put their signatures at the end of the group project.

Though, perhaps, just to make an effort, I'd let this trio be.

They had been desperate enough to come looking for me after all.

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#222

Chapter Twenty

There was something beautiful in the way winter gave way to spring. And I didn't say that only because I had mastered the bubble-head charm and practically went around with one over my head constantly, or because I had a fishing pole and spent some of my days fishing by the lake in tranquil peace. No, the beauty was that the first year at Hogwarts had taught me much, and was still teaching me much.

For example, the House Elves could perfume your bed sheets if you asked them kindly, or if you left them a note. They'd clean the air in a room, help you out in getting stains off robes and whatnot just as long as you tapped somewhere on the castle's walls and got their attention. It was something so interesting, so incredible...and yet nobody else seemed to know this, or if they did know it, they didn't speak of it.

I didn't understand the need for Filch to grumble about getting the messes clean when he could just tap and get a house elf to do it for him. Perhaps it had something to do with him being a squib? Maybe house elves didn't answer non-wizards? Well, whatever. It didn't really matter in the long run.

One thing that caught my attention had been Hagrid's strange purveying in the library about dragon books, which meant the Norberta railway was going strong. Soon, the trio of protagonists would bring the dragon up the highest tower of the castle, which was the Astronomy one. Following that, they'd get their Forbidden Forest punishment together with Draco Malfoy.

"Do you think there's any good way to rack up points for the house?" Megan Jones asked, while I was actually reeling in a hook lacking in bait. The damn merfolks were stealing it. I knew it.

"Study hard, answer properly, destroy the enemies of the House?" I replied nonchalantly, grabbing hold of another squirming worm. There was a spell to make those wriggle out of the ground, and somehow I had gotten practical with it too.

Yes, fear me and my worm-call spell, Lord Voldemort. I will have them eat the soles of your boots!

"We don't have any enemies, do we?" Wayne Hopkins asked, puzzled. He sat on a nearby rock, playing a strange rendition of Wizardry Magical Cards with Amanda.

"Why are you asking me?" Amanda replied, "We Ravens don't have anything like that. My auntie told me that we fly too high to bother with such things."

"Oh, my mom said that we Hufflepuffs stay too well in our cozy hearths to care," Megan quipped. "But my aunt disagrees," she grinned brightly. "Used to fight in the war against You-Know-Who." She whispered the last part as if she was speaking an evil curse. Such precious first years, such innocence that needed protection. Don't worry, the evil bad guy resurrects in three years' time, and by then, the only one who die are the named characters in the books.

Stick to the background, and you will live.

"You-Know-Who killed a lot of people," Wayne whispered. "My dad's lost a few cousins that way."

I threw the hook once more, and then waited patiently for a fish to take the bait.

"In order to answer properly," Megan continued the previous discussion, "Would that mean having the professors pick you most often than not?"

"Technically yes," I answered, "But then, you'd need to catch their attention and not necessarily in a good way."

There was silence for a brief while. "You think the Weasley twins get pressed for answers routinely?" Wayne muttered.

"Maybe that's why they have good grades," Amanda said. I blinked at that nugget of information.

"They do?" I asked.

Amanda nodded. "My auntie says they're just wasted talent."

I shrugged at that, and then felt the fishing pole tug. I pulled back, rose up and planted my feet firmly against the ground. "You caught something!?" Wayne and Megan both asked excitedly, while Amanda simply stood by the side watching.

I kept pulling, gritting my teeth as the thing beyond tried its best to pull back. In a matter of seconds, I was nearly flung off my feet. Two Hufflepuffs and their combined body-weight held me back, and together the three of us ended up holding our ground until even the Ravenclaw joined us.

In a matter of seconds, we all ended up in the cold waters of the spring lake, before just as quickly ending up flung on the lakeside by a massive tentacle. The squid's tentacles floated briefly over the lake's surface, and then dropped below the water, creating ripples.

"My bait and my fishes!" I yelled in the direction of the squid. "A fish!" I pointed a finger in the general direction of the lake. "Give me the fishes!"

Wet beyond belief and miserable from a lack of fish, I growled in the general direction of the Giant Squid's departing tentacles. There was a slap from the lake's surface, a ripple brought forth my a massive tentacle rolling about against the ground, and soon my arms ended up filled with live fishes trying their best to wriggle free. I smiled in the lake's direction. "Thank you, Giant Squid!"

The fishes were not that happy, I reckoned, but little did they know that they'd end up inside a fish tank in the room of requirements, and from there they'd become nice snuffboxes, or other kind of stuff like goblets, for example, or lamps. I was starting to make nice fish-like lamps. My next step would be something a bit sharper, and with an edge to it too.

Was I really turning into an oddball, though? I was doing this just to assuage my own worries about the plot-related situation, and because it was honestly fun to experiment. Perhaps there was a positive reason for wearing a jellyfish on someone's head?

Still, this did not change the fact that I was completely drenched, as were the other three. "Thanks for the help," I said with a bright smile. "Do you want a fish? The Squid gave me too many."

"No," Wayne scrunched his nose with a disgusted look. He shuddered ever so briefly. "We should hurry back, before we end up with a cold."

To the wisdom of those words, we all got back into the castle.

Wayne even showed us the way to the Hufflepuff Dormitory, or how I'd called it: the coziest place in Hogwarts. Unfortunately, he only showed us the way, but kept us from getting in. It was some kind of Hogwarts tradition that only Hufflepuffs could see what it was like inside. Everyone else was barred access.

Still, both Amanda and I ended up climbing the stairs to get dry, myself carrying the basket of fishes.

The door to the Ravenclaw tower barred us access, presenting a riddle the likes of which I had no clue on how to solve.

An older year heard our tries and opened the door from the inside for us, before sighing in tired resignation at the sight of the fish basket. "And we have our first year oddball," he mused in a tired smirk. "Keep the fishes out of the common room."

"Yes sir," I said with a cheerful smile.

The fools didn't know.

Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for one day.

Give a wizard a fish...

...and he'll transmute it into swords.

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#246

Chapter Twenty-One

The fish looked at me, and I looked at the fish. It was opening and closing its mouth. I tapped the side of its fin with my wand, and it shriveled up. It elongated, becoming another kind of fish. Then, I tapped him again while considering the coefficient of double transfiguration, and obtained a sword that smelled like fish and had scales in place of an edge. Now, if I could just turn the scales sideways, I'd at least get a blue-scaled ripping sword and be one half done with my Akatsuki cosplay. The other half would be done after putting red clouds on my black robes.

"Why am I transforming fishes into swords?" I muttered to another fish, glancing at me from the fish tank with bored interest. "Because it has the same formula for turning mice into snuffboxes. Same levels of complexity, none of the moral quandaries."

I then moved to the side as I finished giving it another tap, and watching the sword-fish in question scatted its upper part into a set of miniature swords. Three transfigurations one after the other made a very strange result, one I wasn't keen on taking notes for, but which would probably give me points with McGonagall if I ever managed to write a proper report on it.

As things were, I found myself drawing ever closer to an invisible line I needed to pass through, and yet dreaded all the same.

It was the kind of line only few wise men would dare tread, and yet I had no choice but to tread it all the same.

"Headmaster," I said amiably, "A moment of your time."

The headmaster's office was empty of said headmaster, but a trilling phoenix sang joyously from atop a perch. A few of the paintings in the background grumbled about my invasion, but I trudged forth all the same and came to a halt beneath the perch of the bird. Its crimson plumage was, in a word, breathtaking. I had seen Fawkes a lot of times, and each time I ended up taking long looks at him even though it was impolite to ignore the headmaster.

"You know," I said amiably, watching the phoenix. "I wonder if you'll able to understand me past the curse-thing," I mused. "Not being able to tell the truth is kind of a shitty thing, don't you believe?" I muttered.

Fawkes crooned, and said nothing. I didn't really dare touch the phoenix. It was still an eagle, and the beak looked kind of big and scary. I wouldn't want to lose an eye, or both, to it. If the phoenix didn't want to near its head, then I would gladly not extend my hand in its direction. "By the way, do you eat fish?" I asked. "Because I've got a lot from the Giant Squid, and I don't know what to do with them. They didn't even die during the basket-trip up. They're probably magical fishes."

Fawkes crooned a bit, grinning as much as a beak could grin. Was this a yes? Then I'd have no choice but to bring back a few fishes next time we met. "You know," I said, "You can teleport. So, maybe next time I call your name you can come and I'll give them to you? Pinky swear I'll call you just for the fishes." I lifted my pinky finger, but the way the phoenix was eyeing said finger made me quickly pull it back. "Well, maybe not just for fishes. Like, there's a basilisk sleeping in the Slytherin Secret Room," I spoke on. "If you could just fly down there, gouge its eyes out and kill it without making victims, it would be grandiose."

I received nothing but more soft crooning. "Right," I sighed. "Forget I said anything about the terribly dangerous basilisk." I looked past Fawkes, to a corner where a pool of silver rested within a marble basin. Furrowing my brows, I drew near. Was this the pensieve thing? Could I perhaps get a memory out and into it? Knowing my luck, it wouldn't work, or I'd get some kind of dangerous sickness while trying to remove a memory.

"Ah, Mister Umbrus," professor Dumbledore said as he entered a few minutes later. "You have been keeping Fawkes company, I see."

"Headmaster," I said with a smile. "I've come for my weekly sherbet lemon, and to ask if the House System really fosters friendship, or merely a convenient scapegoat system for the one unfortunate house to have a history of sinning and evil."

Headmaster Dumbledore nearly stumbled on his next step, but gathered himself remarkably well with a twinkle in his eyes. "Ah, I see. Unfortunately, as much as I would love to strike at the heart of that argument, which is dear to me too, there's little we can do. The castle doesn't want it changed. Trust me, Mister Umbrus, I have made...attempts." He took his seat, and I took mine. "Moderation, most often than not, is the key to successful inter-house relationships."

I took a sherbet lemon from the candy bowl, and as I began to suck on it, I mulled over his words.

"The old House Members refuse, and the new ones become the old ones. Truly, traditions need a firmer uprooting most often than not, else there's little one can do without upsetting a few feathers," I quietly glanced at the headmasters' standing beyond the wall. Some scoffed at my gaze, while a few others politely waved. "We all grow tired and weary from our battles," I said with a sigh. "Can't seem to get a fish on a hook without getting the Giant Squid's help."

"Oh? The Giant Squid in the lake is quite friendly, though often misjudged," the Headmaster said with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. "It likes bread. I suppose you will-"

I blinked. "So that's why the fishes didn't hook at first!" I grumbled. "I had tried with bread, but it kept disappearing without a trace! I thought the Merfolks were eating it, and instead it was the giant squid! That's one sneaky, deft cephalopod isn't it?"

Headmaster Dumbledore chuckled at my outburst. "Indeed it is so, but it means well. It got stuck in our lake a long time ago, centuries I think, brought by a wayward student and unfortunately it grew quite fond of it."

"And grew also quite beyond measure," I added. "Still, headmaster, could I ask you a favor?" I glanced at the paintings, "It's kind of a private one too," I whispered.

Headmaster Dumbledore blinked at my sudden request, but then neared his face to mine, "You can rest assured, Mister Umbrus," he whispered, "That the paintings will not hear us," he raised his wand, and flicked it a bit. If there was a spell cast, I could not know of it. "What is the matter?"

"Can I try going into the forbidden corridor before it stops being forbidden?" I asked. "With supervision, of course. I want to see what's in there."

The Headmaster looked at me. I looked back. There was something rolling about in his head. It was perhaps the strangest thing ever, because for the briefest of instants I was sure he'd say no, and then I'd just groan and get along with it, but it seemed as if he was actually considering it, and that gave me the tiniest bit of hope.

I really just wanted to try the Forbidden Corridor experience *TM* under adult supervision, thus without the risk of death, to see if I'd be as good as the canon cast when they went through it.

Who wouldn't want to try getting smothered by a Devil's snare or killed by a chess piece?

"I'm afraid that the Forbidden Corridor is forbidden for a reason, Mister Umbrus," the headmaster said, and I sighed, dropping my head ever so slightly.

Well, so long attempt to defeat the canon cast and prove the superiority of a wizard first year with the mind of a twenty-something adult. We'll have to improve our fishing abilities. Then we'll need to get wandless books and perform incredible feat of wizardry.

"Very well, professor," I said.

As I stepped outside the headmaster's office, a sudden spike of inspiration filled me up.

It was a really stupid idea.

It was an utterly bonkers idea.

Thus, without doubt, I had to try it.

The shortest route from point A to point B does not matter...

...if you can fold the space-time continuum with a certain Room of Requirements.

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#256

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bizarrely, in a strange turn of events, for the first time in forever...there will be music, there will be light.

I grinned like a mad lunatic as I gazed at the room the Room of Requirement had brought me to. Rather, it was the door of transportation. I had remembered properly. The last year, the Room of Requirements had been used to reach Hogsmeade. And just like that, it had also been used to move through the castle to skirmish the Death Eaters. I remembered properly, I was actually right, and for once things had gone by way.

I looked at the giant mirror, showcasing my polished reflection. My reflection was tapping away at a computer screen, countless awards filling the shelves while beautiful top models winked sultrily in my direction. I ignored them. I accepted my base desires, and then moved on. I tapped with my knuckles on the mirror's surface, and the tapping away author-self turned, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

"The philosopher's stone, for protection," I said dryly. He scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "I don't want to use it." I didn't. I didn't need immortality through potion-making, and I didn't want to make gold out of it. Sure, the thought did cross my mind, but it would be too complicated. My plan hinged on actually keeping the stone safe, and returning it before the end of the school year.

My mirror-self smirked, grabbing from the mirror's computer screen a crimson stone, and pulling it out. He then filched it inside his trouser's pocket, and I felt the familiar weight settle in my own trousers.

"Thank you," I said in a whisper, quietly turning around. For a brief instant, I panicked expecting the evil Voldemort to swoop in to thwart the glorious protagonist's journey one last time, but as Quirrell wouldn't attempt the gauntlet until the end of term, I was alone in the room.

Poor Quirrell, he'd be looking for a way inside the gauntlet, and then at the end, he'd be defeated without ever knowing that the philosopher's stone remained safely tucked away inside a first year Ravenclaw's trunk.

The skip in my step remained even as I returned to the Room of Requirement's main DADA-room. I felt happy. For the first time, I had done something smoothly, without problems and without risking my life even the tiniest bit. I had just had a nice talk with mirror-me. It was great. Now, as the raging reality of what I had done settled inside my skull, I still couldn't help but keep a smile on my face.

I whistled a catchy tune as I got to work on practicing my Protego. One day, I would finally get a shield and stop being manhandled by the mannequin. This was not that day, but eventually, in the end, I would.

For I was Shade Umbrus, Ravenclaw...breaker of silly plot lines and believer in simple solutions.

Later that evening, as I made my way up the Astronomy tower in a mild mid-spring night, my bubblehead charm kept me breathing, and a warm thermos in my hands kept them warm. "Anyone wants hot coffee? It's great and it's warm," I piped excitedly once we placed the telescopes. Professor Sinistra actually pondered it briefly, but then accepted a cup from me. Even atop the tower, it was relatively easy to get more cups by just getting a house elf to do it.

The thermos had been transfigured from a large rock. It had exploded only thrice, sending me to the infirmary only once, but it didn't matter. My suffering was still coming, but I had learned to live with it, and roll past the initial troublesome start into a steady and ever-rising spiral of masterwork magician training.

I didn't fancy my chances at fighting anyone straight-up, but I didn't need to fight if I reacquired one of my special secret skills. The Wall-Flower Perk had to be somewhere in my ascension tree, and the moment I unlocked it, I'd be near-invisible to all unless I made my presence known. Yes, fear me and the power of being quiet and in a corner, Wizardry world! I am the faceless goon in the background, the man in the crowd that doesn't stand out, the-

"The map," Amanda said in a whisper. "You need to fill it up," she added. The students' wands were lit with softly spoken Lumos spells, at a low glint to shine just enough to get the astronomical map filled with the names of the stars and the constellations in the skies.

"Thank you," I whispered back. I had been lost in my thoughts, and that wouldn't do. I still needed to get a passing grade in astronomy, even though I didn't really like it.

My eyes rolled over the map and my right hand began to scribble, my left holding on to my wand. After a couple of hours, we were sent back to our dormitories, the Hufflepuffs having to take the longer route to get to theirs by the kitchen.

With my main objective fulfilled, I now had side-quests awaiting me. The main one was getting practical with non-verbal spells.

Unfortunately, I made no progress on that.

"You really don't like it when I go non-verbal, do you?" I grunted to my wand after a few fruitless hours in the Room of Requirements. "Sometimes, I think it would be easier if..." I looked at the stick in my hand, I looked at it properly, and then I belatedly realized something.

I had no idea what kind of wand it was. What was its wood, its core? I dimly remembered a wand unable to perform silent magic because it always wanted to make noise, and another that instead cherished silent spells. Some were good at cursing, and others with charms. Perhaps, without knowing the nature of my wand, I had been taking the wrong approach?

Rather than being incapable of learning, the wand refused without further straining? It would be impossible to continue on non-verbal casting, and what I needed was to find out, and the best way was to go through the other students' common sense, since mine was firmly set in learning a spell to find out.

"How to find out a wand's materials?" Wayne Hopkins mused my question as we sat doing our History of Magic homework, before rubbing his chin and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I guess you should ask Ollivander? If he sold one to your parents, he'll definitely remember it."

It was then that the acute sense of stupidity wracked through my brain with the strength of a thousand suns.

I had an owl.

It had been with me since the start, and I had dimly forgotten about it until now.

Needless to say I was thankful for the house elves that fed the owls in place of the students, because otherwise my poor bird would have died.

Thus, I wrote a letter to mister Ollivander, watched my owl stare at me owlishly, as if wondering if I was a mirage or the real thing, and then sent it on its way. Poor owl, once I got money of the wizardry kind, I'd buy it some treats.

I didn't receive a reply from Ollivander until late-spring, the poor man probably overburdened with work.

He didn't remember my wand at all.

Great. Good. Excelsior.

Well, I couldn't win them all.

I'd swing by him to let him have a look before the start of the second year, when I'd go to buy the second year stuff with the orphan-funds.

After all, he'd probably realize at a glance what my wand was made of, for he had created unlimited wands.

Thus summer arrived, and with it the most dreaded foe of them all made its move.

They arrived heralded by doom and gloom...

...the end of the year Exams.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

The exams were tough. On the plus side, I had apparently become such a know and notorious entity when it came to transfiguration that the mouse I had to turn into a snuffbox was left on a desk in the middle of the room, with Professor McGonagall in the far distance. I looked at the professor with an awkward expression, tapped the mouse, and watched it become a snuffbox.

There were actual tears in McGonagall's eyes at the sight of the snuffbox. "Outstanding, Mister Umbrus," she said. "I knew you could do it."

I smiled back, "Professor," I said amiably, "Do you think I could get extra credits if I transformed a fish in a swarm of swords?"

I walked out of there with fifteen points for Ravenclaw, a sword at my hip and a catchy tune whistled from my throat.

Charms had me make a pineapple dance, and Professor Flitwick had little to say to it, since I hadn't given him any particular problems with his curriculum. "Professor," I said amiably, my smile shining brightly like the saint child that was promised, "I've been practicing a musical charm, do you think I could get extra credits for it?"

I walked out with thirty points for Ravenclaw after playing the Hall of the Mountain King, thematically chosen and strangely appropriate.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a written test, while Potions was about brewing a forgetfulness potion. I didn't dare try to get extra points with either of them; I was no fool. Astronomy and History of Magic, instead, were probably two exams I had taken less than Outstanding on. I just didn't care enough for them to study the subject; I did the homework, made an effort to memorize some important things, but that was all.

Herbology I aced the written portion, and professor Sprout gave me extra points out of her kind heart once she saw the mastery I had over the Bubblehead and the Incendio charms.

All in all, I wouldn't be kept back a year.

Thus, I eagerly went about minding my own business until two days before the end of the term feast. That was when things happened in a quick blur. Headmaster Dumbledore was called away on an urgent manner, and since I had been coming every now and then to his office, I pretty much intercepted Minerva McGonagall telling the trio off. I briefly glanced at Hermione, and shook my head ever so wildly.

She could have come by to say hi at least once, but I reckoned she was just too shy around strangers, or perhaps she had no clue on where to find me. I was for most of the time hidden away in the Room of Requirements, and when I wasn't there then I was fishing by the lake. Our schedules were probably conflicting. Still, I wished her all the best in her endeavors.

That night, I stayed awake within the Ravenclaw's common room. It was ludicrous, but I couldn't catch a wink of sleep.

This wasn't like shifting a pebble and getting a typhoon in America, I hoped. I sipped a warm cup of coffee, and waited patiently. It was ironic, but as the clock marked the second hour of the next day's morning, a surprising visitor made its way into the common room.

Headmaster Dumbledore looked tired, but still his eyes caught mine and I grinned back at him. "Hello Headmaster," I said amiably. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" I gestured to the thermos by my side, and the empty cup nearby. The Prefects hadn't bothered me when I set up shop. Inside the Common Room, you could stay awake as much as you wanted provided you didn't make any noise. It wasn't uncommon for some students to remain stuck in reading books throughout the night.

"Mister Umbrus, the house elves told me you were awake," he said with a tired sigh, "Staying up so late will harm your growth." He neared, and took a seat on the nearby armchair. His old hand grabbed the thermos, and he poured himself a cup too. "I fancy tea more, but sometimes I do find myself in need of something slightly stronger."

"Unfortunately I couldn't convince the house elves to let me bring up some sherry," I said. "They won't give minors alcohol."

"Considering how they shouldn't be at the service of the students of Hogwarts like that to begin with, I find myself wondering what sort of orders they are following," the Headmaster mused, taking a sip. The fireplace had long since stopped crackling, and the moon peaked in from beyond the tower's windows. "Mister Umbrus, may I ask what your intentions are?"

"I'm reasonably sure that the actions of those three will result in points, given rather than taken," I said. "And I approve of the idea of letting young children throw themselves into the grinder of war and rewarding them for it," I chuckled as I said that, clearly not serious at all. "But Headmaster, fairness would thus have you award those same number of points to the one person who did it all by himself, and who in the end kept the stone out of someone's, a really evil someone's, hands."

"The wits of the Ravenclaws are incredible indeed," Headmaster Dumbledore said. "You would not have been allowed to take the stone if you thought about using it for your personal gain. Thus, you did it for the good of your House." His eyes twinkled. "What worrisome student you are, Mister Umbrus."

"I'd rather call myself the least worrisome student," I continued, "You'll walk out of here with the stone, whether or not I get the points," I shrugged. "If I ever want a philosopher's stone, I'll retrace Nicholas Flamel's step and brew one myself, seeking the ingredients out. That's what I'd do." I took a longer sip of my coffee. "But concerning my desire to see the House Cup tradition destroyed...since all changes must come gradually, I had a different suggestion to make."

Headmaster Dumbledore listened to my suggestion, and then gave it a gentle nod. He walked out of there with the Philosopher's stone, my word kept.

When the feast for the end of the year began, the decorations Slytherin-like, Dumbledore took the word.

"Yes, yes well done Slytherin, well done Slytherin, however recent events must be taken into account, and I have a few last minute points to award." As soon as he said that, silence fell in the large dining hall. "To Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect when others were in great peril, fifty points." He spoke, and the Gryffindors turned to look at the girl in question, cheering her on. They knew what had happened, since everyone knew. It was a secret, thus everyone knew that. What they didn't know, the real secret, was what Dumbledore and I had talked about.

"Second to mister Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years, fifty points." The cheers from the Gryffindors grew. The point difference was diminishing. "And third to mister Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."

The whispers grew in a cacophony. It was a tie. It was a tie with Slytherin. I remained silent, my fingers crossed as my chin rested on my palm.

"And finally, it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends, I award ten points to mister Neville Longbottom."

The cheers became a chant. Gryffindor had won. They had won the House Cup.

Or so they believed. I could imagine the vinyl scratch come to an abrupt hard as Dumbledore raised both hands, quieting everyone down.

"However," the Headmaster said. "The Philosopher's Stone was indeed stolen," the murmurs began erratic. Every single student's eyes widened in disbelief. "Demonstrating wits, wisdom, and an incredible amount of knowledge of every single field of magic, as well as cold logic, a single student stole the Stone. He did so with deft hand, with courageous bravery, with a wisdom beyond that of his peers and through a hard work seldom seen in a student. And then, he gave it back." The murmurs had died out.

"He returned the Philosopher's Stone. Having known it would be stolen, he stole it first. This does not diminish the work of the Gryffindors, but such an act must be equally rewarded. Yet," Dumbledore raised an index finger, "He did not wish to give points only to his House. Altruistically, or perhaps wishing to hide his identity, he asked for all houses to be awarded a differing amount of points. Thus...to Slytherin, ten points."

The students looked at one another. Shocked.

"To Ravenclaw, fifty-six points," now it was the turn of my House to be traumatized.

"To Hufflepuff, one hundred and thirty points," and with those final words said, the decorations of the dining hall shifted at the twitch of his wand. "This year, there is no loser for the House Cup, for all houses have won it."

He smiled. "That is what someone, incarnating the best traits of all Houses, picked as his reward."

He began to slowly clap. "And I think, we should all do well to thank such a person."

The professors were muted from shock, but soon joined in the clapping. I clapped too. All students clapped, while whispers on whom it could have been grew and multiplied. I, in the meantime, let it be. Everyone's cheers were muted, but on the positive side, it took a Gemini charm to get four identical House Cups.

The train ride that would bring me to my summer holiday in a muggle orphanage would come to pass, and afterwards, a couple of months of boredom without magic would happen.

However the face reflected in the mirror of the train looked back at me, and it had the most infectious grin of them all.

For I was Shade Umbrus...

...the incredibly Trollish Ravenclaw.

Last edited: Jul 25, 2018

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\- Year One Finished. "Umbrus Shade, and the Philosophical Principle of being a Background Character."

Year Two - Prologue

Orphanages were not place of happiness and mirth, but they weren't either places of despair and cruelty. At least, not the quaint orphanage I ended up in. A clean bed, a small room, and bars to keep me in rather than let me jump to my death out of the window. Also, no magic whatsoever, but that was the least of my problems. The orphanage had a small library filled with children's book, and some neutral-looking caretakers as well as a few who actually liked their job.

There also were some would-be parents that came very now and then, but only for the small ones. The big ones weren't not-liked, but perhaps it was easier for the parents if the child didn't doubt whom his parents were?

Still, with my wand practically confined in my trunk, and the key hidden on my person, I had all the time in the world to try to understand how to get some basic wandless magic down. If Tom Riddle could make people hurt by thinking about it, then I, being naturally the most charismatic and smart, should have been able to do thrice his level of wandless magic and without breaking a sweat.

I couldn't practice near the orphanage though, or it would bring the ministry down on me. Hence, I could only practice by moving really small pebbles, and only during our regular afternoon trips to the park.

Thus, I took to sitting under a tree, a book in hand, and meanwhile I'd flex my left hand's fingers trying to convince the pebble on my lap to float up.

Sometimes, I'd even whisper the word 'Accio', but to no avail. My majestic powers of wizardry might failed against the simple task of levitating a pebble. Perhaps I didn't want it enough, or maybe I didn't tap into the full potential of the arcane weave -or whatever, really.

The weeks went by relatively quickly, though most of the time was spent trying to be as quiet and non-existent as possible.

A week before the start of the school term, I managed to get the pebble to float into my palm whenever I actually popped a vein in my forehead and hissed the word Accio out as if seeking to snap someone's neck. It was progress, and it proved that the ministry of magic tracked the wand and the general proximity of someone's residence, but not someone's magic.

That was also the day that professor Flitwick came to bring me in Diagon Alley for my school supplies. The half-goblin professor grinned at my sight, and I grinned back. "Mister Umbrus," he said with a smile, "Hope you've spent a good summer."

"Can't complain, professor," I answered. The people of the orphanage believed I'd go for the school supplies, and it didn't take much to convince them. "The only thing I'm sad about is that I couldn't practice my charms without a wand. I tried, but the most I managed was make a pebble float."

Professor Flitwick nodded eagerly, "Well, I am glad to see your thirst for knowledge unimpaired, young raven. Let's go, grab hold of this key here and we'll use it as a portkey to reach our destination."

He brought up a rusted, but elongated key and lifted it up in front of my face. I took hold of a side of it, and as the man tapped with his wand on the key's side, a giant hook dragged my intestines along for a ride I hadn't signed up for.

I landed, butt-first, on a patch of ground in the backyard of a pub, near a brick wall. My vision was swimming and my eyes were trying to recover their focus. I turned around, closing my eyes and holding my breakfast in. A couple of deep breaths later, and I was back on my feet. "The first time is always discomforting," professor Flitwick said with a kind voice.

"Thanks for the warning, professor," I replied with a sigh, cracking my neck as in the meantime the professor tapped the brick that would open us a way into the magical land of Diagon Alley.

For an alley, it was filled with people and quite spacious. Shops of all kinds rested on the sides, but we moved quickly through our list, professor Flitwick apparently pressed for time. "Professor," I said halfway through the trip, "Could we make a detour to Ollivander's? A really brief one, I just want to know if I'm handling my wand correctly. Since...it was passed down to me, I don't know if I'm suitable for it or not."

Professor Flitwick agreed. It really was that easy to get professors to comply as long as you were polite about it. For an orphan, things weren't that bad. I got everything, and not necessarily second-handed. Sure, my robes wouldn't be made out of silk, and I definitely had bought some second-hand books, but I didn't look like the kind of student that everyone would point a finger at and yell 'Orphan!'.

Things had changed from Tom Riddle's times, I reckoned.

Ollivander saw me enter and furrowed his brows, though seeing professor Flitwick made the feeling pass. "Ah, Professor Flitwick. Red Oak and Dragon Hearstring," he then looked at me, and at the wand I was quietly holding in my hands, "A student from Hogwarts? He already has a wand, does he not?"

"I don't know if you remember me, sir," I said, "But I wrote to you some weeks ago, about not knowing what my wand was..."

"Ah, yes, I do remember the very bizarre question asked," Ollivander hummed, and extended a hand. I passed him the wand, and the moment I did tiny sparks of fire left the center of the wand, probably a silent spell from the man's own hand. "Thirteen inches of Spruce, with a Dragon Heartstring as a core," his eyes looked into mine, "Quite the dangerous wand to hold, for it is both temperamental and prone to accidents."

"So that would explain why it was making a ruckus about non-verbal magic," I grumbled back, looking at the wand which Ollivander handed me back, "You're a flamboyant kind of wand, aren't you? Fire, flames, that sort of thing," I smiled, "Thank you for telling me that, sir."

"Still," Mister Ollivander continued, "Would you rather not look for your own wand?" he suggested, "I do recall the funding for orphans to allow it."

I shook my head before professor Flitwick could answer in my stead. "It's all right, sir. I like her and I hope she likes me too," I swished the wand right and left, and as I did it sparked with tiny fireworks. "See? Guess we do get along."

"Indeed," Mister Ollivander muttered, eyeing the wand with a hawkish gaze, as if surprised himself, but then he smiled, "I suppose that you must be quite similar in nature to one of your parents, Mister Umbrus, take solace in that."

I nodded, "Thank you, sir," I looked towards Professor Flitwick, "Thank you for taking the time for this detour, professor."

"Mister Umbrus, your explosive transfiguration aside, please do your best to keep your newly found discovery tame and acceptable within the school's confines," Professor Flitwick spoke with a gentle, but slightly stern voice. "I am keenly familiar with the interest you have shown in practicing charms, and spells, and I approve of it. However do be careful," he added with a warmer voice. "At least, practice near the infirmary, will you?"

"Yes professor," I said with a smile. "I will."

Through the fire and flames...

...I would carry on!

Last edited: Jul 25, 2018

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Year Two - Chapter One

I felt at ease the moment I holstered my wand in its holster and stepped aboard the Hogwarts' train. My trunk floated by my side, the Wingardium Leviosa levitating it in its entirety. I found a compartment where to leave my stuff, and sat down patiently in the train's carriage. I had arrived two hours early, which was a bit early than most, but I just couldn't help it.

After a couple of hours, the first students trickled in. Some rattled the door of the compartment open, saw me, and then walked on. They were older years, probably looking for an empty compartment for their friends. I flipped open Gilderoy Lockhart's book on Voyages with Vampires, and as I began to read it, I quietly pondered on the wizard that had actually done such things, and would never become famous.

Gilderoy had obliviated the original guy, and taken credit. He would swoop in, listen to humble wizards seeking only to be left in peace, and then obliviate the memory of their encounters from their minds in order to make them his. He probably also had a ghost-writer writing for him the stories, judging by how well they were written. It was like reading a piece of narrative, a very catchy piece of narrative in which Gilderoy traveled, met people, spoke with them and after charming the local beautiful maiden went on an adventure to save the maiden's brother or something.

Then he'd wink at what he'd do with the maiden and move on to explaining his strategies for the incoming foes. Sometimes a whole country would be plagued, and he'd take a fake name or wear a mask in order to keep his fame from interfering. 'For when the enemy knows that Gilderoy is there, they all run away in fear and that would be no fun!' was a catchphrase he used in the books.

The wizard was a fool, but also incredibly dangerous.

The door of the wagon rattled open, and I glanced up at the figure stepping inside, giving a friendly wave at his sight. "Hey there, Wayne."

Wayne Hopkins grinned and waved back, "Hey Shade," he sat down, then looked at the book in my hands. "Oh right! How cool is it that we've got Gilderoy Lockhart of all people as this year's DADA instructor?!" he literally gushed, and I kept a tight smile on my face. "He was a Ravenclaw too," he added. "You think he'll favor your house?"

"I think he'll favor no one," I answered with a sigh, "He's a good author, but...some of these spells are a bit off."

Wayne grinned, "You couldn't make them work, could you?"

"I didn't even try, since I can't practice magic outside of school," I answered nonchalantly. "I'm a half-blood, and..." I grimaced, and looked out of the window. Wayne blinked at that, and then his face became slightly pale.

"Oh," he whispered, "I'm-I'm sorry."

"It's all right," I acquiesced with a tight smile. "It's in the past." I sighed, and flipped another page of Gilderoy's book. "How was your holiday, Wayne?"

The atmosphere warmed up soon after, and by the time the train was ready to depart, Amanda and Megan both joined us in the train car. Amanda was smiling something fierce, and looked ready to jump off the train by herself if it got her closer to Hogwarts.

"We're allowed broomsticks!" she gushed at my quizzical stare. "This means we can try out for the Quidditch team!"

Yeah, I'm sorry to burst your bubble Amanda, but I'm relatively sure, judging by how I don't recall your name ever being called, that you didn't make it in the team. At least, it wasn't like I could remember the names, or if they were all a part of it. No, actually, I didn't need to rain on her parade. I didn't remember who made it and who didn't except, for example, Cho Chang and...and that was it? Was Cho Chang the only one in Ravenclaw I remembered being on the Quidditch Team?

"Good luck then," I said with a smile. "I'm sure you'll be an excellent...what would you like to be?"

Amanda grinned, "A Chaser! You need to catch the quaffle and bring it through the loops, avoiding the bludgers and zig-zagging! It's the closest thing to getting hit by anti-aircraft there is!"

I had been nodding half-mindedly to her words when my brain reeled to a halt. "Wait," I blurted out. "What did you just say?"

Amanda blinked, "You avoid the bludgers, which come at you really fast, and if you do that-"

"Why did you compare it to anti-aircraft? Is there a story behind it?" I asked, now keenly interested much more than I had been a second before.

Amanda nodded, happy to have my undivided attention at her tale-telling. Even Wayne and Megan looked interested, and that spoke volumes of what grandiose tale it had to be. "My auntie used to fly during the war, the muggle's first one," she quickly added, "And the muggles mistook her for a plane, so they-"

"Oh no," Megan and Wayne both whispered, as if understanding keenly what it meant. Even as I listened in, that piece of information stuck to me. Then...they weren't Purebloods? I had no Pureblood friends? How could I become the heir of the most ancient and noble house of Umbrus without Pureblood friends? I'd be forced to stick to being common, plain, Half-Blood Umbrus.

The Half-Blood Shadow-I could sign my books like that, and cheekily play with both Snape, Voldemort and...pretty much a lot of people.

"She said it was incredible," Amanda added, her eyes literally filled with stars. Oi, Amanda, you know it's not normal for youngsters to wish to be subjected to bombardment, you know that? "They looked like fireworks from afar, but then they began to explode near her. She threw a Protego spell on herself, but then her broomstick's tail started to smell funny, and burn and-"

I watched, with incredible admiration, as everyone else literally hanged from Amanda's words. I was listening in too, keenly aware that perhaps the people surrounding me were worthy of some of my attention -not too much, or my plans to become the very best would falter- but perhaps I had misjudged them. Even cardboard cut-outs had lives and stories, and it was arrogant of me to ignore them.

"She did manage to land all right, didn't she?" Megan asked with a plead actually in her voice, as if asking nicely would change the story.

"Yes," Amanda giggled, "On a tree! She then had to walk the rest of the way." Probably because she couldn't muster a Portkey charm, an apparition, and didn't have floo powder and a chimney nearby.

"But why was she flying like that?" Wayne asked.

"She was on her way to meet her sister living near Paris," Amanda answered.

I held my tongue back from stating how silly that entire thing was. Like, seriously, what was the point of going for tea and crumpets-

"She helped her move to London," Amanda continued, "away from the fuss of the mainland."

Apologies, Auntie Brocklehurst, for misjudging you.

Considering the general silliness of the Wizardry world, you are a sensible person.

Thus, whoever you are and wherever you are...

...know that I apologies for my thoughtless thoughts.

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Year Two - Chapter Two

The second year started with me gazing into the eyes of the Thestrals pulling the second years and above's carriages, and the Thestrals looking back at me. They neighed, and I bitterly patted the creature's neck before climbing on the carriage. "You waving at the air?" Wayne asked, but I shook my head in answer.

"Thestrals," I said with a sigh, "Only those who have seen death with their eyes can see them," I added as Wayne's brows furrowed. "They're the ones driving the carriage."

"Blimey," Wayne exhaled, "It's the second time I'm getting my foot stuck in my mouth. I'm sorry Shade-"

"It's all right," I chuckled, shaking my head with a sigh. "It was nothing that dramatic."

Nothing more was said, and as we reached the dining hall, we patiently waited for the feast to start.

It did, but without Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. I barely noticed it, and thus as I realized that things were proceeding according to plans, I inwardly knew what was to come.

Ginny Weasley would open the Chamber of Secrets. Some people would end up petrified. Then they'd be made better. All that I needed to do was steer clear of the second floor, and of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and everything would be fine by the end of the year. If I remembered correctly, they'd even suspend exams this year. I only needed to work my way through the fact there was a deadly kill-with-sight giant snake and steer clear of potential controversies about the Heir of Slytherin.

I had new and powerful magics to master, and there would be no help from the pompous Gilderoy. This year's firsties were a bunch of kids, but then again, so were we. It was eerie how I watched countless unknown faces look up with hope at everyone around them, and yet my eyes were drawn to the only one I vaguely recognized. She was wearing a strange necklace with something metallic attached to it, and had her wand behind her ear. She seemed to be amiably chatting with other fellow students, so I let her be, but I reckoned her strangeness would show herself soon enough, and the rest of the house would then attack her like a flock of crows from that famous Hitchcock movie.

Luna Lovegood, 'Loony', had arrived in Ravenclaw.

I ate, and did my best to ignore the gnawing nervousness wallowing inside my stomach. It would be theoretically easy to prevent everything from happening. However, if I did that, Dobby wouldn't be freed from Malfoy, and I dimly remembered him being important for future reasons. No, I could not interfere. Not yet. Until the fourth year, when a death happened, I needed to prepare.

I glanced at the origami-shaped paper that unfolded in front of my eyes. I looked straight at the timetable, and then cursed inwardly. This wasn't just a timetable. This was death waiting to happen.

"We have no Monday or Tuesday, only a tranquil death," I whispered gloomily. Amanda was happily chatting away with other girls, and the trio of Ravenclaw boys my age were busy talking about Quidditch matches. My words were drowned in the chatters and the murmurs of fools that couldn't understand what it would mean to have such a hefty workload on those days, as well as a History of Magic before lunch.

If the professor forgot about ending the lesson, then we'd end up coming late for lunch, and that was unacceptable.

"I need to safeguard the holy lunch," I whispered some more, before grabbing hold of the mashed potatoes and serving myself a platter of it. Then, I glanced at the fork by the side of the plate and extended my fingers, "Accio," I hissed.

The fork floated into my hand. With a satisfied grin, I grabbed hold of the knife the same way and began to eat. It made me feel pleased with myself. It was small, and ineffective for moving anything heavier than a pebble, but it was progress. It was the kind of progress I could practice every day and every night with ease, because it was the product of laziness.

Bill Gates once claimed that he'd rather hire a lazy and smart person than a hard working and smart one, because the former would find quicker and easier ways of doing their work, while the latter would just work hard. He wouldn't have hired Hufflepuffs.

Dinner done with, I walked my way up to the Ravenclaw dormitory together with the rest of the house students. "Remember that the door will test your wits each time you need to open it, so if you fail at using your wits, house cooperation will work instead," the Prefect said. Then, he easily solved the riddle and allowed everyone inside. My room mates remained unchanged, and as little discussion was had, I quickly went to sleep in the comfort of the comfiest bed there ever was.

The next morning, I had coffee waiting for me by my bed-desk. Just a quick pick-me-up to get me started on the day ahead, but it was glorious to be back at Hogwarts.

"Hey," a student said, catching my attention as I was about to leave. "Where's..." he looked down at his timetable, "Potions? Nobody said anything but 'the dungeons'..."

"Ah, listen," I answered with a smile. "You just need the general direction. Potions' in the dungeons. You don't need to worry about being late, or lost, or whatever. The castle will guide you as long as you want to reach the Potions' classroom. Just remember to watch out when you take the stairs. They'll move you wherever the hell they want to move you," I grinned brightly as I said that, "So learn a fall-cushioning charm as soon as possible, and practice it. it won't help you get back up, but at least should keep you from arriving late for those classes in the dungeons."

"Thanks, I guess?" the first year muttered in disbelief, his friends nearby worried about the newly found information.

"Don't be scared little chicks," I said with a hearty chuckle. "You're at Hogwarts. You can do magic," I stressed it forth. "Nothing is impossible for the likes of you," I grinned, and raised my wand. "The spell for cushioning one's fall is Molliare and all you need is to point it at the area you want to be mollified from." My smile turned sadistic. "It also has other uses, and helps greatly if you point it at an enemy with a baseball bat, for example, or at a stray bludger." I sighed. "I would have avoided so many beatings if I had just learned this spell first," I chuckled at their wide eyes, filled with fright. "Not like anyone's going to beat you up here, but wary the Weasleys, for they are dangerous weasels that seek to chew on the flesh of the young chicks and-"

"Shade!" Amanda interrupted me. I looked at the girl, and at the rest of her friends nearby. "You're scaring the first years."

I gave a single nod. "Can I join?" she asked next.

"I...uh?" I blinked, and she did indeed join...on the side of the first years. She had to feel more comfortable now than she did in the first year. First year students at schools are normally the most polite, since they need to adapt to the environment. It's generally from the second year above that they become hooligans of death and destruction, and blossom into wonderful flowers of schadenfreude.

"What are you doing over there?" I asked her, puzzled beyond belief.

"Well, if it's something scary, then I want to hear it and get scared too," Amanda pressed on.

Oh...Oh.

So if I had a Ravenclaw Thrill-Seeker as a friend...

...what would the other two be, I wondered?

Last edited: Jul 26, 2018

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Year Two - Chapter Three

Charm lessons began with a very simple workload consisting of revisions. As I sat down scribbling the charms that I remembered from the first year, I pondered on the unfairness of being a muggleborn, or a half-blood without a wizard parent in the same house. Since the tracking worked in an area, and on a wand, it was reasonably inferred that if a spell was cast in a wizardry household, then it belonged to the adult wizard of the family. And if the spell was cast with the child's wand, then it clearly had been done under the supervision of an adult.

Still, revisions were actually useful. If anything else, they demonstrated the difference between ingrained skills, desire to practice and children who instead enjoyed their summer holidays doing absolutely nothing.

However, there was a noticeable difference.

Our Charms lessons were with the Slytherin.

The green-tie-wearing cardboard cookie-evil maniacs who got no more than three lines each and were thus clearly evil, bad guys who deserved to be shot on sight were, for the most part, absolutely normal students. There were a few sour apples in the bunch, but it wasn't that they laughed maniacally and swore revenge in the name of their most ancient and noble houses. No, it was more like they grumbled whenever a Ravenclaw answered perfectly, and childishly called us know-it-all.

Still, the Ravenclaw house earned more than twenty points from the revisions' tests, and while the Slytherin lamented us being unfairly prized, it also meant something else. The lessons wouldn't be like in the first year. They'd swap our houses' partners too. I dreadfully watched as my traumatic reality came to the fray, and my eyes loomed over my potions' partner for Snape's lessons.

For we had Gryffindors as partners for Potions and Transfigurations, Slytherins for Charms, Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Hufflepuffs, those gentle and caring souls, for everything else.

I looked at Professor Snape's smug expression, acknowledging the incredible feeling of schadenfreude the man was feeling at having personally picked the perfect potions' partner for a certain Neville Longbottom. I looked at the boy as I would a walking, natural disaster. Even though I was relatively sure he was a good boy, and would become a good man, it still didn't change the fact that he was a dangerous entity to hold near a bubbling cauldron.

"Professor," I said, bowing my head ever so slightly. "May I, at my judgment, swish my wand to guarantee my personal safety?"

Professor Snape sneered in my direction, and I glared back. Deep down, really deep down, I think Snape knew I wasn't challenging his authority as much as acknowledging that I couldn't and wouldn't refuse this, but I would fight back to safeguard myself. It was a white flag of sorts. I got the message, and he got mine.

"Mister Umbrus, it would be remiss of you not to," Professor Snape said with a light smirk, "I do expect you Ravenclaws to demonstrate your ability and shine even when faced with unfortunate and sub-par assistants."

I gave a long nod, more like a bow of the head, towards the Professor. He then wrote on the blackboard the name of the potion we had to brew -a forgetfulness potion, quite apt considering the circumstances of this being a revision- and then began to move around like a hawk.

"Through the gates of hell," I hummed, "As we make our way to heaven," I placed my wand by the side of my desk, before turning towards Longbottom. I checked the ingredients for the Potion, and then got to work.

First the water, then the lethe water, then heat, count to twenty, drop the valerian sprigs, stir thrice clockwise and-

"Uhm...sh-should I grind the mistletoe with the dried ingredients?"

I waved the wand, utterly ignoring his question until I was sure the cauldron would have to be left to cook. Then I flipped a hourglass for the hour mark, and finally I turned towards the Gryffindor in question.

"You do that," I said. "Two measures of dried herbs, four mistletoe berries. Crush into fine powder in the mortar."

Neville nodded, and quietly got to work. I looked at him measure the dried herbs, get them ready, and then place them in the mortar. The berries, he counted as if afraid he'd make a mistake between the number three and the number four.

Everything was fine up to that point. I reckoned it could be just an exaggeration, his inability to work with potions. Then, rather than add the ground herbs in pinches, he moved to get a tablespoon. "Ahem," I coughed, looking at him. "Pinches, not tablespoons."

His eyes crossed ever so briefly, as if suddenly realizing what he was about to do, and the incredible foolishness of it all. He then took two pinches, and made to add them to the cauldron. He tumbled, grabbed hold of the cauldron's edge, and then would have sent the cauldron flying on the ground, had my hands not grabbed hold of the cauldron's edge with both hands, much to my dismay at the heat.

"Let go," I snarled, and Longbottom stumbled slightly back.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out as I removed both of my hands from the edge, glancing at the angry red marks on my palms. "I tripped-"

"Being sorry does not excuse your inability to walk on your own two legs," I hissed, closing and opening my hands as I took deep breaths. Eventually the wizard regeneration would start to work its miracle, but I'd see Madam Pomfrey, just to be sure. "Or your unnatural nervousness, for what matters, do you think I'll rip your head off if you make a wrong move?" I grumbled as I proceeded to add the pinches myself, "Just stay put." I glared at him. "I'd rather not head to the infirmary so soon in the school year."

Thankfully, him staying perfectly still made the rest of the potion-making experience less of a danger. "Mister Longbottom, for endangering a fellow student and refusing to aid him in his potions, that will be twenty points from Gryffindor," Snape said, swooping in from the side with a remarking glee. I simply rolled my eyes at the act, and nonchalantly bottled up my own potion. Extending my left hand towards my wand, I called it forth in order to holster it.

It sailed through the air, landing in the palm of my hand. With a bright grin, I delivered the potion to a brow-furrowed Snape. "No silly wand-waving, professor," I said amiably. "I do still remember our first year's lessons."

"Very well, Mister Umbrus," professor Snape said curtly, accepting the potion. "Someone has apparently studied throughout the summer rather than dilly-dally." He smirked, venomously. "That will be five points to Ravenclaw."

I nodded, and started to walk out of the classroom together with my fellow Ravenclaws.

"Hey mate, wait a minute," Ron Weasley said, lifting a hand in my direction. I stopped, and briefly turned to look at the trio of Gryffindors. Well, rather than three, there was Neville being slightly consoled by Hermione, whom I supposed had been his previous potions' partner. "There's no need for the cold shoulder, is it?"

I raised an eyebrow, and then made a bitter smile. "Why have a cold shoulder when you can have burning hands?" I drawled, waving very slowly my hand in front of them. "I'm heading to the infirmary on the double. For next time, ensure your friend practices his potion-making skills." I then quickly resumed my walking, because the hands were hurting me something fierce. I didn't have the protection brought from draining countless pots of hot water into the sink while making pasta, or the clutching of pans and pots with metallic handles because yes, heat is a thing we Italians do not really care about in the kitchen.

However, I would wear gloves starting the next lesson. I would do all that I could to avoid getting killed by Neville's inability to work properly with potions.

At lunch, my eyes naturally glanced towards the first years. There still didn't seem to be any bullying involved. Then again, it would probably begin once enough time had passed. The wizardry world was vast and filled with wonders, so even if someone claimed something foolish, it wouldn't be discounted out of hand. It would just take a professor saying that Nargles and Crumpled Hornstacks or whatever didn't exist for that to change, but until then, it appeared that Luna Lovegood was getting accepted by the people around her just fine.

We were the house of oddities after all, so some odd members were acceptable.

"You were about to curse that poor Gryffindor to kingdom come weren't you, Shade?" a voice caught my attention, and I turned to look at the face of the Ravenclaw boy that spoke. It was Anthony Goldstein who had spoken, one of my roommates.

"No," I sighed, shaking my head. "It's not like he can help it. Snape's a bit biased with the Gryffindors, isn't he?"

There was a chuckle from Anthony, "That's an understatement, still, it means we get points and they lose them. This year, maybe we'll win the cup for our house."

I hummed at that. "And what if the mysterious Philosopher Thief steals again and gets the Headmaster to give points to everyone again?"

Anthony rolled his eyes. "That had to be a seventh year. Going through a gauntlet like that to steal the philosopher's stone? Only someone that smart could have done it. Those Gryffindors managed because of Harry Potter, mark my word."

Terry Boot nodded from the sides. "Yeah, I heard from an older year that someone boasted it was a Ravenclaw that graduated with top marks and got into the ministry."

"My dad always told me government officials were thieves," Michael Corner acquiesced from the side.

I chuckled at that.

Ah, delicious Hogwarts' grapevine...

...what sweet wine you press out.

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Year Two - Chapter Four

The Roosters began to die. I knew because Hagrid mentioned it, and he did so because as soon as I had a free morning, I aptly decided to spend it doing what I did best. I was whistling a catchy tune, extending my hand in order to summon forth the tiny pebbles along the paths around Hogwarts, while at the same time bringing Fang for a trip around the castle. I was acting as a dog-sitter, but I enjoyed it, and the large dog did his very best not to be a problem.

Fang was a big animal, and big animals, especially big dogs, could either be brought to heel or left to wander about. He was also trained, somewhat, and quite the coward. He'd run away at the first sign of danger, showing a level of wisdom that most wizards lacked.

"Accio pebble," I spoke, and the pebble launched itself into my eager palm. I launched the pebble in the air, away from me, and then accio'ed it back. It dulled the throw, but didn't bring it back into my palm. Either the object needed to be still, or I'd need some more oomph to my spells to get it right. Fang meanwhile did his business across the grass. The luscious green grass of Hogwarts on which students would sometimes sit and watch the sky or rest.

Well, that was the danger inherent with going to a park and sitting on the grass. One never knew if the place you called comfy was indeed an animal's latrine or not.

Fang stopped by my side, proudly showing a bowtruckle in its fangs. The poor thing shrieked wildly, trying to break free. I sighed, and plucked it out from the dog's mouth before throwing it in the garden. Fang took that as the cue to run after it. The bowtruckle's legs actually ran really fast, its high-pitched screams somehow making me feel bad, and yet also forcing me to hold back my desire to laugh at the scene.

Fang returned with the bowtruckle once more caught in his jaws. "Good doggo, Fang," I said. "But...let him leave now, won't you? Poor thing's a bit scared," I freed it from Fang's mouth once more, but this time I dropped the magical creature on the ground. It hissed and snarled in our general direction, before starting to run away as Fang barked at it. In a matter of minutes, I had a bowtruckle in my hand once more.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I spoke, and then flicked my wand in the direction of the forbidden forest.

The bowtruckle flew in the air, launched straight for the tree tops. Fang whined, waggling its tail. The dog knew better than pursue in the forest without Hagrid by its side. The giant was the one making the dog feel safe, not viceversa. "Leave the poor animal in peace, before the Wizard-equivalent of the Animal Protection Service comes to take us in."

Fang barked, and then accepted my explanation. I brought him back to Hagrid's hut just in time for some tea and rock cake. The tea, I drank. The rock cake, I politely informed him that he had exceeded on the flour and made them nice little bricks. And truthfully, it did hurt his feelings just a little, but truth needed to be told. For without truth, how can someone learn from his mistakes and become a better person?

"It's all right," I said, dipping one into the tea cup. "Just need to stay soaking for a while."

"Never got the recipe right," Hagrid grumbled, his large hand more than enough to make Fang's head look like that of a tiny puppy, rather than the large dog he actually was. "My da used to make them," he added, "He was a great cook, my dad."

"You should write the recipe down," I said. "Maybe I can have a look at it and see where the proportions are wrong."

"Ya would?" Hagrid asked, and then extended a hand to a nearby table. Grabbing a parchment, he scribbled down with a large quill -probably from an ostrich- the ingredients and their list. I glanced at the list for a while, furrowing my brows.

"Hagrid," I said quite amiably. "You forgot the milk, and I doubt the recipe asked for so much sugar and flour to begin with." I gestured for the quill, and make corrections. "There you go," I said, handing it back. "This should make them softer on the teeth."

He grabbed the parchment, and grinned. "Next batch I make, I'll send some yer way."

"I can't wait for it," I said with a bright smile of my own.

My fingers pinched on the incredibly soaked Rock Cake that still had the galls to look hard as rock, and as I bit into it, the surface gave away. Indeed, through the ancient art of dipping, the cake could become something edible. "By the way," I said, "What's the Forbidden Forest like?" I asked, "And what kind of wondrous creatures inhabit it?"

I knew what arguments Hagrid enjoyed speaking about. Thus, as a way to make him happy, after having hurt his feelings with the Rock Cakes, I gingerly drifted the conversation on topics I knew he enjoyed, and that I found interesting too.

When I walked out of Hagrid's hut, I carefully glanced at the Forbidden Forest briefly, and then redoubled my pace in returning to the safety of the castle's fortified walls. I swore in the name of civilization, of which I was a glorious proposer, that I would not stop until the very last tree had become a large island of concrete. I understood the beauty of forests, and loved a lot of nature's tiny critters.

However the Forbidden forest would burn. Concrete would pour and civilization would destroy it. The evil that lurked within those trees, and in that undergrowth...dangerous, truly too dangerous to contemplate. And Hagrid marched every day into it, or nearly every day...he was a real hero. He was the Gamekeeper with the biggest set of iron balls I had ever seen.

There were Cerberus inhabiting the place. Not one, but dozens of the things prowled about, as well as Hippogriffs and, believing Hagrid, a happy-looking cat that was probably a Nundu or something similar.

No, no, no.

The forest had to go. After everything was done, I would bring Fiendfyre and torch the place down.

There could even be a literal Slenderman in the forest.

My shudders grew in intensity as I rounded the corner into the great hall. My right foot struck something, and the next second a fizzling pop exploded upwards. In seconds, I was covered head to toe in some kind of jelly-like substance, a greenish goo of sorts that didn't stink, but that perhaps was my bubblehead charm at work.

"We caught a Ravenclaw!" the voice of one of the Weasley twins had no right to be so incredibly happy, but yet it was. I would have hexed, or perhaps even cursed them, but I was literally stuck inside the jelly-like substance.

I remained there for half an hour, glaring viciously at the empty air, until I was saved by the timely intervention of an angry, snarling Argus Filch and an equally pissed professor McGonagall.

My saviors both wore scowls, if for different reasons.

Mine remained the bigger scowl of them all...

...fine then, Weasley. You will suffer like you've never suffered before.

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Year Two - Chapter Five

Transfiguration had us turn birds into goblets. Real living birds into glass goblets. I looked at my bird, its vibrant eyes, its colorful beak, and wondered if it was a species nearing extinction. Was I about to give a hefty hand into its extinction. I concentrated. Taking deep breaths, I reviewed the mental calculations, checked them thrice, applied the proper posture to the spell, and then tapped the bird's side.

I had named the bird Mister Feathers. He was, after all, a great bird. He was really pretty, and nice. I sincerely hoped nothing bad would happen to it.

"Vera Verto," I enunciated it clearly, as I had heard the professor, and many others, do. Others had failed, their glasses still holding on to feathers, or flapping a bit with their bodies made of glass.

There was a popping noise. It was the kind of noise you could find in a firework, but it heralded that I had lost mister Feathers. Clearly, I had killed the poor bird. I quietly opened my eyes, expecting to find the jagged shards and the remains of the poor creature of the lord all over the desk, but instead was pleasantly surprised when I found it alive, if with a glassy beak.

"Miscalculated somewhere, but you didn't explode," I said cheerfully. "Let's...undo this one and try again."

I touched the creature's sides once more. I was happy. Mister Feathers hadn't died.

It exploded into a shrapnel of bones and glass shards.

Someone screamed in the background. For being Gryffindors, they were incredibly traumatized by explosions, or bleeding students. "Mister Umbrus," professor McGonagall said. "You are bleeding."

I glanced up at the professor, and then nodded very slowly. I could feel the blood drip from my forehead. "Infirmary then, professor," I said with a tired sigh.

"You need to remember the correct pronunciation, Mister Umbrus," professor McGonagall stressed. She then looked at the fragments of what remained of the bird, and sighed. "I'll have Hagrid catch a few more."

"P-Professor!" Hermione exclaimed, "That's...Those poor birds! You can't do that."

"Nonsense, Miss Granger. These things happen," professor McGonagall replied. "Why else would I stress the need for serious practice and studies? Rest assured, perhaps one or two will suffice in mastering the spell."

I walked outside and got all the way to the infirmary with nary a thought, even as the warm blood dribbled down from my forehead. Madam Pomfrey sighed at seeing me, and I simply waved at her. A few whispered words, and I was as good as new, ready to return to my assigned task.

"It's Vera Verto, no?" I asked, looking at my new colleague. Apparently, Hermione had moved to stand by my side during transfiguration, much to the chagrin of Amanda, who had instead felt the keen need to become my transfiguration partner. Whoever understood kids was a godly being, I reckoned.

"It's Fera Verto, Shade," Hermione grumbled. "Fera. Verto. Fai-ruh Fair-toh."

I looked at Hermione with a puzzled expression. "Fairuh Fairtoh? What kind of spell is Fairuh Fairtoh? The professor said Vera Verto."

"She said Fairuh Fairtoh," Hermione stressed. "The correct pronunciation is that one."

Amanda huffed, "Just let him say what he wants," she said. "I'm looking forward to it." She was wearing a pair of goggles, the kind Quidditch players wore. She did deftly pull them away whenever McGonagall glanced in our direction though, which didn't make the entire thing safer, nor make me feel optimistic about her reasoning for aiding me. Out of the duo, I implicitly trusted Hermione to seek the well-being of the poor bird that was now standing in front of me, unaware of the cruel fate he'd been sentenced to if things went wrong.

"Fairuh Fairtoh," I spoke, touching the sides of the bird. With a twinkling and a click, a satisfying grey mist transformed the bird into a flawless crystal glass.

It glittered like morning dew, and there were gems studded alongside its edges, carved from the colors of the bird's beak and plumage. It was a breath-taking glass, if I could say so myself.

"Pronunciation is key," Hermione said, vividly satisfied.

Amanda pouted from the sides, huffing. "Spoilsport."

I looked at the glass cup, and then at my wand. It had worked, and without future deaths. Interesting.

I always did suck at pronunciation. Someone once told me that I spoke like a German Tourist that had mastered the French Accent, while at the same time being an Italian. Thus, clearly, it took someone else pointing it out for me to realize just how acutely this could be a problem.

I tapped the glass' sides, pronounced the counter-charm and the bird reverted back. "Fairuh Fairoth," I said once more, and there the bird returned to being a flawless cup.

"Excellent work, Miss Granger, Mister Umbrus. Five points for each of your houses," professor McGonagall said, a stern, but slightly mollified expression on her face. With a look of pride, Hermione flipped open her own transfiguration book to read further ahead. I did pretty much the same, and Amanda instead huffed.

"Can't you just make it blow up?" she whispered.

"Later by the lakeside," I said in answer in a hushed whisper, "I need to learn how to transfigure this year's Christmas gifts."

Amanda's eyes sparkled. They had no right to sparkle. Why were they sparkling with joy?

But then again, it reminded me of my foolish, foolhardy youth spent throwing myself head first into the crashing waves of my hometown's beaches. As a kid, I'd love to roll and nearly drown while swinging in a washing-machine-like state, pulled by the waves against the sand, the rocks, and then landing with a hurray safely on the beach.

Years later, I'd still have rocks and sand bits dropping off my back every now and then.

Thus I could understand the general elation at liking things go boom, or wanting to feel the wind on your face, or so forth, but at the same time... "Weren't you meant to go pester the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain for a spot in the team?" I asked her as the four of us, the group of shadows unbound by the main quest, gathered by the lakeside. It was slightly cold, but not overtly so. Even if it did become cold, I could just summon forth an Incendio at the tip of my wand and have it burn some rocks nearby.

I had a large loaf of bread in my hands, and glanced at the surface of the lake.

"They'll have their tryouts later in October," Amanda answered. "I'm going to try and get in as a Chaser."

"Good luck with that," Megan said, stretching a quilted plaid on the ground near the lake. "This year, I came prepared," she said amiably, plopping down on the plaid with a book in her hands. It was one of Gilderoy Lockhart's books, "Isn't professor Lockhart dreamy?" she whispered, grinning like a mad loon at the cover of the book, where Lockhart in question was winking back at her.

"We haven't had him yet," I answered, shuddering ever so slightly.

"You'll be fine, Shade," Wayne said as he took a seat on the plaid too, "The professor's a bit quirky, but he's been a Ravenclaw."

"Are you implying that being a Ravenclaw guarantees some quirky factor in behavior?" I remarked, before catching the attention of a peculiarly big ripple. "Squiddie!" I yelled in the direction of the ripple, waving furiously the bread loaf in my hands, "Hey Squiddie! Look! I brought you bread!" I threw the loaf in the direction of the ripples, where it fell with a sordid plop and was quickly grabbed by a ludicrously big tentacle. "I'll bring you more later, but I need some fish now!"

As if on cue, a tentacle slammed against the surface of the lake, ripples of water bringing to the surface a few wide-eyed fishes, which I quickly caught with an Accio spell.

Wayne looked at me with an incredibly smug expression, and thus I looked back at him.

"What. It works," I stressed it out, lifting the basket of fishes. "You haven't heard what lies in the forbidden forest, Wayne. If you had, you'd get yourself a sword too."

I grabbed hold of a fish, and tapped its sides. With ease, the practiced spell transformed it into a gleaming, metallic sword.

I then planted the sword on the ground with a huff, the weight quite something for my twelve year old frame.

"You're going to poke someone's eye out with that, Shade," Megan said.

I nervously began to swing it on the river side, huffing and puffing every now and then.

Amanda...

...why are you sitting nearer to the swings? It was a cute quirk the first few times, but now you're really starting to worry me. I'm swinging a sword, Amanda. Is that why we're friends? Because I do have an unfortunate ability of making friends with utterly weird people, but Amanda, if that's the case, know that I'm not judging you, or your strange lack of restraint in seeking ever greater risks to your life.

I am merely trying to avoid going to prison. We wizards only have Azkaban, and I wouldn't want to end up there, not even for a week.

So steer clear of my blade, young girl.

Go juggle with your own blades if you want to feel the thrill of beheadment!

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Year Two - Chapter Six

Astronomy with the Hufflepuffs was a peaceful event. The subject itself was one of the most peaceful things I could hope for. The Hufflepuffs would work together, we Ravenclaws would do our part, and I would drink hot coffee to stay awake together with Professor Sinistra. Since I had already finished mapping out the stars of the constellation given to me, and had already written down their influence on some magical brews and spells, I could either turn in and go to bed early, or wait for the others to finish.

I picked the latter option, most noticeably due to the threat of the Basilisk being just round the corner seeking someone to petrify or eat.

"How can you drink that stuff?" Wayne asked, scrunching his nose in disgust as he came to a stop by my side, sitting down in wait for the rest of his house to finish. "It's bitter."

I tapped the side of the astronomy tower's floor, and a thermos appeared from the ground up. I truly cherished House Elves. I would have loved them all tenderly with fluffy socks and beautiful scarfs, but then they'd take it the wrong way and start crying, so I didn't. Instead, I extended the thermos towards Wayne, who hesitantly took it. He opened the cap, and sniffed the contents.

"Hot chocolate," he whispered, before his eyes began to sparkle with joy. "You're the best, Shade." He took a deep gulp.

"What can I say," I answered. "I'm the little wizard that keeps on gifting," I took a sip out of my own coffee cup, and glanced over at Wayne's happy expression from drinking his chocolate. "How's sharing some glasses with the Gryffs and the Slyths?"

"Meh," Wayne shrugged. "I thought Harry Potter would look different," he scrunched his nose up in distaste, "But the Slytherins are horrible. They suckle up to the teachers and jibe at you when you're not looking. It's like they're always laughing behind your back, insufferable gits." He hung his head low. "And since we have Potions with them, the teacher gives them lots of points and takes ours away."

"My condolences," I acquiesced. "Just grit your teeth and wait for the storm to pass."

"You should hear what Malfoy says about him," Wayne grumbled. "Or how far Snape goes to give him points. He gave Slytherin five points just for showing up in time for the lesson."

I sighed. "Want to write Dumbledore about it?"

Wayne shrugged, "I dunno. I guess if he's still doing it then it doesn't really matter all that much, and Dumbledore's busy."

A sudden scream came, carried by the wind. I gingerly smiled at Wayne's surprised expression, and as professor Sinistra grabbed a telescope to look at the source of the screams, it came pretty clearly from the Gryffindors' tower. A window had opened, and a deep orange powder was leaving through it. From within came screams of beasts and monsters, but I quietly nodded to myself and glanced at the time.

I had no clock to check it, but judging by the moon, the charm had worked flawlessly. Puffapods beans, secretly gathered in the herbology lesson, had been enchanted to a much smaller size and left as a gift throughout the Gryffindors' room. Miniaturized bags of dirt had been left too, all gifts for the Gryffindors, all made by a tenderly loving Ravenclaw who begged a few House Elves to bring the gifts secretly to his friends for a magical surprise.

Thus, when the charm had ended, the bags of earth had exploded and the beans, growing back to their normal sizes, had latched on and immediately begun to bloom. A few seconds later I watched as magnificent flowers bloomed out of the Gryffindor's tower, my pleasant humming barely audible at the gasps of wonder of those in the astronomy tower.

The vines grew thickly across the castle's walls, breaking through the windows. I took another sip of my coffee. "I guess the Weasley Twins did it again," I mused.

"I dunno, aren't they the ones dangling from that big vine?" Megan said, looking through the telescope.

"Probably to divert attention and shift the blame elsewhere," I answered naturally, without missing a beat. "Those damn pranksters would do anything for a prank well done."

Some murmurs of agreement spread through the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. The next day, I was glad to see that House Gryffindor had lost fifty points, probably because the twins had been blamed for the prank.

Sitting down at the breakfast table, eating my breakfast slowly, I glanced in the direction of the Gryffindors' table. My eyes glanced over to the carrot-heads, and from there I quickly zeroed in on the Weasley twins. The owls fluttered in.

They fluttered in, and a letter descended ever so slowly in the hands of the Weasley Twins. The Howler for Ron Weasley had a similar shape and texture, and I had witnessed its greatness already. This one, however, was special. It was twice as big, and rather than a letter looked like a foot-long parchment.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" the Howler bellowed with enough strength that the windows rattled. "OF ALL THE THINGS YOU DID, DESPICABLY STRIKING INNOCENT FIRST YEARS ORPHANS OF YOU-KNOW-WHO IS THE WORST I HAVE HEARD! YOU BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE SHOULD KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET THIRD-HAND CLOTHES TO FIT, AND RUINING THEM COMPLETELY IS IN NO WAY A PRANK!" I held back my laughter as the screaming, high-pitched set of snarling curses left the Howler in the voice of Molly Weasley. Go get them, Molly.

I had struck all of the possible chords with the woman. An orphan of You-Know-Who being subjected to the horrible pranks of the twins, having his books and clothes ruined and in tatters because of their jokes, and simply wishing for her to please talk some sense into the twins, because life at Hogwarts should be happy, and not filled with fear and fright at their pranks.

The Howler continued for a few minutes, both twins actually shaking in their seats by the time it was over.

My hopes were that this would be a somber experience for the duo.

If they didn't learn from it, then I'd move on directly to the Curses.

Perhaps I wouldn't disembowel them, but maybe if I cursed and made them lose both of their arms, they'd stop definitely?

No, that was too cruel.

I'd just leave them in the tender care of Squiddie.

The poor girl needed someone else to play with, after all.

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Year Two - Chapter Seven

I tapped on the wooden stand, from which the musical notes seemed ready to spring forth. A light haze covered the Room of Requirements, aptly transformed into a musical amphitheater of sorts. I stood at the conductor's post, empty musical instruments in front of me. An empty space for the opera singer stood slightly higher than the rest, and by my side the first violin rested, my eyes catching flickers of anticipation in the taught of the strings.

"Let us try going with a bigger spell this time around," I muttered to myself. "Symphonia Musicalis," I tapped the notes, and as my right hand rose, so too did the music of arcs start to play. They harmoniously began to follow a tune, a few going seamlessly out of tune. By the time my other hand rose, the cacophony grew as the drums began to roll about. "Oh, come on!" I growled, giving the signal for the entire thing to stop. The instruments resumed their normal positions. I looked by my side at the first violin. "You're the same from Symphonia Cantatio, aren't you?"

The violin, in answer, made the noise of a dying sheep. I took that as an affirmative answer. "So I have to train you lot all over again," I whispered in awe, trying to understand the logic behind the spell. "Very well," I grunted, raising my wand and hand once more. "Let us begin. First violin! Give the rhythm! Allegro Cantante, s'il vous plait!"

The Italian and the French clearly would make things work smoother. It didn't work. The violin's angry refusal to obey the laws of symphony mixed with the rest of the instruments caring even less about the entire thing. I was being subjected to a revolt from a bunch of magical instruments. "Enough!" I roared to the whole thing, making them stop. "We are here to play music, not to kill it in the name of Slaanesh!" I pointed a finger at the center of the stage. "You, there, sing!"

There was silence.

I blinked. A feeling of dread pooled in my stomach. I walked from my spot at the conductor's seat to the one as the singer. "At dawn..." I hesitantly sang, and the music followed. It was out of rhythm, but it did follow the singer. "I will win." I finished the brief sentence, and begrudgingly returned to the conductor's spot. "So I need to find a singer to get you lot to work in rhythm? Come on, have you never heard about practicing?"

A trombone took that as the cue to angrily toot in my direction. "You! I'm sure you're thinking that you're so perfect you don't need practicing, but at the same time...I do. So, now, please, let us practice."

The orchestra began anew, and flawlessly sang every single piece I could think of. It then stopped, and the trombone tooted once more. "All right," I conceded. "You lot know your stuff," I grumbled, releasing the spell with the Symphonia Finalis counter-charm. The musical instruments quietly floated down, and then disappeared as the Room of Requirements shifted from within, giving me back moving and spinning mannequins.

"The cultured invaded conquered the brutish invader," I quipped, letting my neck crack ever so slightly. To never be conquered, one must be both brutish and cultured. My eyes moved towards the second year book, and as I extended my fingers, I concentrated. Very slowly, one of the pages began to turn. I gasped for air, and did the same for the second page. I gave a nod to myself, to steady my will, and then pointed the wand at the first mannequin.

I swept the wand, "Depulso!" I exclaimed. The mannequin spun slightly, as if a strong breeze had come into the room. A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead as I tried the spell again, and again.

I then looked at my wand. My wand felt warm in my hand, I reckoned she was inches away from purring by herself. However, it seemed to refuse to cooperate. "What is it?" I asked, staring at the wand dumbly. "This is no different than a Flipendo," I looked at the mannequin, and then back at the wand. "Do you want more oomph? Like, some fire?" The wand didn't seem willing to answer me, and thus I ended up pointing it against the mannequin once more. "Let us try...wait," I brought the wand down. "Experimenting with magic can result in people dying. I am not risking my bacon over adding the Incendio spell to anything else."

The mannequins kept cruelly spinning back and forth in front of me, uncaring of my moral dilemmas. I took a deep breath, found my center, and then swept the wand again in front of me, again and again until I grew too tired to keep on doing that, and crumbled against the armchair to gather my breath once more.

I was sweating like a melting ice cube on a hot summer day.

I feebly extended my wand from the armchair, and then summoned forth a fish from the tank. It passed into my hand, the glass-eyed fish gaping for oxygen, and soon turning into a blade. "Wingardium Leviosa," I muttered, tapping its side and lifting it up with relative ease. I gingerly floated the object slightly away from me, and then, while keeping the first spell on it, muttered the second one. "Depulso."

The sword shot forth like a rocket. It impacted with a thunder-like blast against the mannequin, striking straight through its chest and making it explode, straw and shards of wood flying everywhere as the sword broke in half, transforming back into the splattered remains of a poor fish.

I looked at my wand, and then I looked at the carnage wrought. "You want flamboyant stuff." I groaned. "You want the kind of stuff I'm not supposed to be doing!"

The wand remained silent, but I didn't need to be a genius to compare the aftermath of the usage of the same spell, and the two differing results. I closed my eyes, catching my breath. I didn't want to risk going around the castle by myself; it wasn't healthy. I'd move in groups, and survive through the year.

My eyes closed, and I settled a bit more on the armchair.

By the time I opened my eyes, I was resting in a room filled with comfortable beds.

Outside, the lights had died, and it was clearly way past curfew.

I turned on one side, sighed, and then ended up dragging my sorry ass through a newly opened door and straight into the Ravenclaw's common room.

That was when I nearly stumbled on a first year Ravenclaw, having somehow curled beneath the carpet of the common room.

I glanced down at the bulge in the carpet, and gave it a hesitant push with my hands. The bulge yawned, and then moved to the side of the carpet, emerging with her blond hair in disarray. "Hello," she said, her voice serene and affable.

"You should be in bed, little firsty," I told her, gently.

"I'm looking for Nargles," Luna answered. "They come out at night under carpets."

I nodded. "Good luck," I said, "Hogwarts has been Nargles free for five hundred years and counting. We've got charms set in the walls to keep them out."

Luna blinked, then shook her head. "They must have failed, because they took my Potions' homework for tomorrow..."

I rubbed my chin, and then lifted my wand. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Luna Lovegood," she said, staring at me with a puzzled look.

"Then don't worry, Miss Lovegood. I am a renowned Nargle exterminator," I gave her a smile, "Accio Luna Lovegood's Potions' Homework!" and as I said that, something fluttered out from one of the books in the common room's library. It easily landed in my palm, and as I handed it over, I then gave her a bright smile. "You do not have to worry, Miss Lovegood. I will utterly annihilate all Nargles from this school within the following days."

I patted her shoulder, "So have no fear, Shade Umbrus is here."

Luna's nose wrinkled. "You smell like fish."

"Thank you," I said with a small nod. "Now off to bed and dream of electric sheep."

"Are...are those a magical kind of sheep?" Luna mumbled, but I gently made her turn, and then began to push her towards the stairs up the girls' dormitory. "Because my father would want to..." she mumbled something else, but then yawned and picked her pace up by herself.

I, meanwhile, cracked my knuckles a bit.

The best way to deal with child bullies...

...was being the adultier adult, and bringing in Professor Flitwick's charismatic half-goblin presence.

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Year Two - Chapter Eight

Professor Flitwick listened to me. True to form, the half-goblin did not grab a war-ax merely because he wasn't allowed to. He was a great Charms-Master, but being half-goblin, I reckoned he had gone through some tough stuff as a child at Hogwarts too. "It's just, I don't want it to be a public shaming," I continued, "If that happens, then children will just double-down afterwards. It's better to take them one by one and speak with them privately."

"I know Mister Umbrus, rest assured that I do indeed know," he sighed as he said that, "It hurts my heart to think my Ravens would do something like that. We are the house that should be better suited in taking care of our oddities." He slumped his head ever so slightly. "Ah, where did I go wrong? I suppose I'll need to be extra careful with my first years."

"Children will be children," I muttered. "Most often, they don't realize how harmful their words are. They see something strange, something different, and they pick on it." I shook my head. "One needs a certain level of wisdom to accept the different as such, and not as something harmful, or to be torn to shreds." I smiled ever so gently. "By the same token, a honest approach yields the best results."

I glanced at the cupcakes' drawer. "Does that earn me a dancing cupcake, professor?"

Professor Flitwick laughed at that, and nodded. A cupcake danced its way out of the drawer and onto the surface of his desk, and as I watched it dance, I waited for a while before extending my hand and watching it float into my palm. "That's...Mister Umbrus, I suppose there is no stopping a determined young Raven from practicing whatever he wishes in his free time," Flitwick mused, "Then I suppose I'll be giving thirty points to Ravenclaw. Ten for bringing the matter to my attention, and twenty for such a display."

I beamed a bigger smile at professor Flitwick. "Thank you professor," I said. "I wanted to ask a few questions concerning wandless magic, if that was possible. I understand it's weaker than without a wand, but are there other limits? Can I transfigure things by touch alone? Are there some charms that come off easily and others that don't? I've tried throwing a Flipendo but-"

As I excitedly babbled on, Professor Flitwick took his time to give me various answers. As long as it dealt with pulling and pushing, normally wandless magic worked just as fine. By the very same token, trying more complex spells normally required either a great deal of practice, or a wand. Something interesting he mentioned was that there were various ways of using a charm. One could whisper the words in the closed palm of one's hand, and then throw it, or keep the wand hidden behind someone's back while still letting the spell depart from one's fingers.

There were a lot of dueling tricks that the professor knew of, and as I asked him for some books...he gave me a ten feet long parchment filled with titles.

"Mister Umbrus," Professor Flitwick said as I was about to leave, "You will not be using any of this against your fellow students, I would hope."

"Well, I wanted to restart the dueling club, professor," I answered back, "Maybe not this year, but...I think it's better to read ahead."

The professor somehow accepted my words, and watched me leave. He'd deal with the first year bullies by his next lesson, I reckoned. This gave me ample time. It gave me ample time to witness Gilderoy Lockhart's DADA lesson and his impromptu test on his favorite color. "Ah, I remember when I was in Ravenclaw, prefect and head boy!" he swooned about it, moving graciously through the class while twirling a lock of hair, staring at his painting by the desk. "The most charming there ever was," he winked in our direction.

Both he and the painting winked at us in tandem.

I wanted to burn the painting down. I needed to learn how to wordlessly throw an Incendio the way of the painting. It was the only way to make sure such blight would not spread, and I wouldn't be forced to lose my house points. What I feared was the slightly shaking bird cage covered in a thick cloth. "Now, as you may or may not have been told, the class before you dealt with the terrifying threat of..." he swung the cloth aside, "Cornish Pixies!"

The blue devils shrieked loudly at us, trying to extend their fingers in order grab at the first rows' students. I quietly got my hand on my wand. "I have dealt with them egregiously too," he continued on, breaking off in a shining smile. "But rather than have you deal with them, since I'm Gilderoy Lockhart and would never do something so tacky as let my class do something twice, you will simply have to draw your best sketch of myself facing the pixies off. Go with your imagination-"

As soon as he said that, I stared in disbelief at the professor. The students by my side actually split in two categories. Those who eagerly got to the job, which keenly had most Slytherins, willing to ignore the stupidity of it all, and some Ravenclaw girls with glazed-over eyes from the man's heroic fame. I, and most other Ravenclaws, were starting to feel quite perturbed by it all.

My drawing skills were non-existent to begin with, so I didn't even bother.

I instead began to scribble down a few choice words about our professor, and then quietly threw the piece of paper behind me.

Gilderoy, real or fake? Narcissistic pompous git or absolute moron? Polls are open. Pass around.

The Ravenclaw who got my note snickered and then as I heard the snickers change places and directions, I knew the message was actually being shared. I remained dutifully silent, quietly pondering to myself about how to best undermine the conman without actually removing him from his office until the very end.

"He actually gave me an Outstanding for not drawing anything," I whispered in awe at the sheer stupidity of the man as I walked out of there, Amanda staring at me as if I had grown a second head. "Saying 'Your greatness is too great for paper alone, professor! I couldn't possibly diminish your greatness like that!' was enough." I shook my head in disbelief. "Frigging impossible."

Amanda simply chuckled. "Why didn't I think of that? He gave me an Acceptable because I was...a cute little fan." She slumped her shoulders. "Sheesh."

As we walked our way towards our next lesson, I watched Amanda move to the windows, and push herself dangerously past the edge. Thus, I did the natural thing and grabbed hold of the scruff of her robe with a tired sigh. "Have we mastered the cushioning charm, Miss Brocklehurst?"

"H-Hey!" Amanda grumbled, "That's the first thing I learned." She huffed.

"Very well," I let her go, and glanced down myself. "Oh, Quidditch practices, uh." The Quidditch pitch in the far distance had people flying around it.

"You doing anything on Saturday morning?" Amanda asked.

"Sleeping?" I retorted. "Until noon at the very least?" That was a lie. I'd probably be awake and into my zone of practicing till I dropped.

"Then you're not doing anything important," Amanda said. "Let's get Wayne and Megan and spy on the Gryffindors' practicing." She grinned like a shark. "When I get into the team, I'll know how to fight them on the pitch."

"Such a devious little Raven," I mused, before sighing. "Very well," I quipped. "But don't push yourself too much past the window's edge, will you? All it takes is a moment of distraction-"

"Yes, dad," she rolled her eyes. "So speaks the one who gives bread to the giant squid."

"Squiddie is a gentle and caring creature of love, and I'd hug her if she were at a more manageable size," I retorted flatly. "Also, I always know what I'm doing when dealing with dangerous things, so I can do them."

Amanda snickered, and shook her head.

Why, these young children, refuting the wisdom of their elders...

...practice what I say, not what I do.

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#504

Year Two - Chapter Nine

The blood of the earth had to flow. For without it flowing, there could be no salvation for the sinners, no wicked deed would go unrewarded, and no saint would ever open his eyes to bring forth a holy communion with God. I grimaced at the cold biting into my cheeks as I found myself looking at the rosy cheeked, and yet strangely happy, second years that were both my bane, my curse, and my nonredeemable friends.

Megan Jones was wearing a wool hat, and a scarf with the colors of Hufflepuff. Wayne Hopkins was dressed pretty much in the same way, but had a pair of gloves holding on to a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Amanda was wearing the Ravenclaw's colors, and excitedly looked at the pitch where the Gryffindors students had been harassed for at least a good hour by their captain.

Near us, two Gryffindors stood. I recognized them as Hermione and Ron, but since we exchanged nothing more than a friendly wave, there was no need to chat.

We wouldn't see the Gryffindors practice any time soon though, judging by the way the Slytherin squad was coming into the field. Something interesting was soon going to spark up. I watched, with belated amusement, as words were exchanged and Malfoy proudly lifted his chin up at having been made Seeker of the Quidditch team for Slytherin. They had the Nimbus two-thousand-and-one if I wasn't wrong, or perhaps those were Nimbus two-thousand, or something like that. By next year, Harry would have a Firebolt, so the point was moot in remember the broomsticks' brands.

Amanda was of a different opinion. "All Nimbuses? Damn," she hung her head, "I've got an Oakshaft 12-"

"A what?" I asked, glancing at Amanda.

"An Oakshaft 12, from the year of its production, 1912. It's a solid broom! The predecessor made the Atlantic cross, it was an Oakshaft 79-" Amanda began to say, only to be interrupted.

Megan piped in, strangely knowing more about broomsticks than either I or Wayne had given her credit for. "But doesn't that mean it's without the Horton-Keitch's Braking Charm?"

"Well, yes, it's more likely to overshoot, but it's a solid broom capable of withstanding incredibly tough conditions and high winds! You could sail in a hurricane and emerge-"

"Probably dead," I acquiesced, "The broom would be fine though."

"Do you really have to ruin everything?" Amanda pouted. "There are charms to protect the driver." She huffed.

"Then, please do master them and then show us how bravely you faced the forces of nature and won," I dryly answered. Meanwhile, I heard Hermione speak up about Draco's spot in the Quidditch team.

"No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little mudblood." I heard the word, everyone by my side quieted down, and we all looked as one towards Draco, who had just called Hermione a Mudblood to her face.

"Why you!" Ron's chivalry took the spot, and just as easily so too did the curse come off his wand and explode, sending him backwards. I sighed.

Someone's fingers touched by robes' sleeves. "That was just mean." I looked down at Wayne's expression. Why was he looking up towards me? Why were his eyes saying something like 'Isn't she your friend too?' Why was this Hufflepuff looking at me in wonder and waiting for my next action? I rolled my eyes, and snapped my fingers.

As Ron was dragged away by Harry and Hermione towards Hagrid's hut, I merely glanced at the group of Slytherin players, just so I could keep them in my memories. Then, I smiled. "Accio." I whispered.

Draco's eyes widened as he suddenly bent down in half, his face hitting the ground sharply as I let go of the charm having achieved the desired effect. Nothing like delivering a telekinetic ankle-grab to get someone paranoid.

"Let's leave," I said offhandedly, "Guess we won't be seeing anyone play anytime soon."

Amanda looked downtrodden at that prospect, but since the Gryffindors and the Slytherins kept rambling until the professors arrived to break them up, and a discussion then started between professor McGonagall and professor Snape, it was clear the hours of discussing would stretch for quite a while.

Thus, with my Saturday morning wasted, it was pretty clear that my Saturday afternoon would have me have to recover the time wasted.

The Room of Requirements welcomed me with my usual training apparatus, the mannequins twirling lazily across the floors. This time though, I had dueling books to read and master. One of the first key rules to learn was to not flinch.

"Face your opponent, and gaze at his wand. Expert duelists will know by the motions the spell that will be cast," I muttered as I glanced at the spinning mannequin. I reckoned this was the kind of lesson that would require a living opponent. "The most dangerous are those experts who do not require motion, or word, to throw their spells. Be ever ready to deflect, or parry," I looked at the book's chapters, pretty much dealing with differing conditions. "On the grounds of an honorable duel, no permanent damage is expected. Potions and salves should always be at hand, but discomfort and embarrassment are at the order of the day. The duel is called if the wand is lost to the wizard and not recovered within one minute, or ends in the hands of the opponent."

The Expelliarmus spell was pretty much considered a cult classic. The problem with it wasn't that I didn't like it. It was good. It was an ever-green. Ninety-nine times out of one hundred, it was the perfect spell. It would be slower to speak out than a Crucio though. Thus, it needed more practice. The book went into detail. Removing the opponent's fingers, shattering their wrists, silencing them, or even threatening to curse their mother in the stands behind them were apparently all well-known methods of achieving victory.

Thus, one of the first lessons was to ensure one's parents were never watching the matches from somewhere in sight.

"Wizards are either incredibly dumb or hardcore," I muttered shaking my head, "And I'm not even sure which is which."

One could even vanish the opponent's wand, though then they'd have to pay reparations.

"Footwork," I grumbled, glancing at the wizard's shape. I tapped the book, letting it float happily by my side with a Wingardium Leviosa spell. The man in the picture was holding his left hand behind his back, taking a stance with his legs bent and his appearance quite sourly concentrated on the other wizard in front of him. It was similar to fencing, if with the addition that the wand was kept as far in front of someone's body as possible.

"Minimize area of attack, shorten flight of spells to enemy. Pull back wand to gather time to cast counter-spell," I muttered, reading as I went through the motions. The mannequin remained there, twirling happily in place.

"I know this is going to hurt," I muttered, looking at the wizard ducking and bending, weaving past thrown spells and whatnot. "Hey, Room of Requirements...I need something thrown at me at high speed that I can dodge."

Something rattled in the far off distance of the room. I looked over there, and a wooden trunk that hadn't been there before began to rattle.

It opened, and a bludger, dusty and old, floated up as if confused.

It then found me.

I emitted the manliest of screams as it flew for my body, passing straight through the wooden ribs of a mannequin and shattering them into sawdust.

I threw myself to the side, avoiding the first strike. Then, the bludger took a turn, and came right back at me.

Dodging practice would be had...

...and each broken bone would be a firmly set memory of my failures.

Last edited: Jul 30, 2018

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Year Two - Chapter Ten

October, with its deadly curse set for Halloween, arrived. The roosters were nearly all dead, wild animals believed to be the culprits, and Hagrid on a warpath to get the foxes, or the magical mystical monsters of the Forbidden Forest, to stop attacking his roosters. He didn't have that many, just three or four, but they were all left to their own devises around the coops near the kitchens and the gamekeeper's hut.

Fang, having been left as a guard, had found absolutely nothing since he was just the dumbest doggo-wooffo ever and wouldn't bark as long as you gave him head rubs.

"Headmaster," I said gingerly as I took a sherbet lemon, having cracked the password for the second year in the end. "Do you think pronunciation is really that big of a deal for spells?"

Dumbledore looked at me through his glasses, sipping on a cup of tea and taking his time to answer me. "I do not think it's a matter of pronunciation, but of intent, Mister Umbrus. Magic is a wondrous thing, and different nations use different means to achieve it. At its core, wonder and beauty are perhaps the one thing that makes them all the same."

I mulled over the thought while suckling on the sherbet lemon. "But then aren't curses and hexes wonderful things too by that definition?"

Dumbledore's lips twitched in a slight smile. "Then I suppose that I should correct my previous statement, Mister Umbrus. Magic, naturally, should be about wonder and beauty. Greed for more, lust for power, it corrupts the beautiful and generous thing that magic is into something twisted and dark. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our hearts are open, and our aims identical."

"Headmaster," I said, "If that's the case, then why does my pronunciation suck so much it affects my transfiguration?"

"Because you think with your brain and not with your heart, Mister Umbrus. It is an admirable trait, a sign of a great wizard, but not of a happy one, unfortunately," Dumbledore's smile was still there, but strangely tight. "The eyes of a child are filled with the wonders of magic, not the practicality of the spells. Some outgrow their physical age, others never do," he sighed, settling himself a bit better on his armchair.

"I'm sorry Headmaster," I said awkwardly, "But I'd rather think with my brain than with my heart. The latter seems the foolish way of going to one's death."

Dumbledore chuckled, "Perhaps," he acquiesced. "In moderation, everything is sweet, Mister Umbrus. Though it can sometimes be so sweet, we lose track of ourselves until it is too late." He gestured for the sherbet lemon, and one floated into his hands. "Take this delicious sweet for example. I'd eat dozens of them if I did not check myself. They would taste nice, and be refreshing. However, the lemon would eventually become cloyingly sweet, and then I would be repulsed by it if I kept eating. Moderation, Mister Umbrus..." his eye sparkled briefly, "It is not something you are unfamiliar with, are you?"

I gave a hesitant shrug. "Sometimes our desires are too much even for ourselves, we think we want something, but then it turns out we didn't really want it to begin with, but it's too late to turn back the clock," I sighed as I swallowed the remains of the sherbet lemon. "The regrets pile up, don't they, Headmaster? The older we get, the more regrets we accrue."

Dumbledore's eyes moved away from my face, and they stared at the window, which gave into a breathtaking view of the Forbidden Forest's treetops. "Is that what you see in my eyes, Mister Umbrus? Regret?"

I quietly looked towards the window too. "Yes," I said. "The resignation of the warrior whose blade is growing rusted, and yet must fight, for if he doesn't...then no one else will."

"What sorrowful vision you have of me, Mister Umbrus," Dumbledore chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. "It is true that evil can never really be eradicated," his eyes glinted with the haze of memories, perhaps some being recalled, "However, that simply means that it is important that we keep on fighting, again and again, in order to keep it at bay."

I smiled at Dumbledore's words, "You know, Headmaster, you really should have become Prime Minister."

"That, Mister Umbrus, is something I will never regret. Too much paperwork," he laughed as he said that, and I laughed in turn. "Though I do wonder what this year's thief of Hogwarts will steal to achieve the same result as last year," he added, offhandedly.

"Ah, Headmaster, that would be telling, if I knew," I answered nonchalantly. "Perhaps nothing, since it was never about stealing something, but challenging oneself against incredible odds."

The Headmaster bowed his head ever so slightly, "Of course," he added. "Then, I suppose it is time I bid you good Sunday afternoon, Mister Umbrus. You would be better served spending time with your peers, and enjoying a good cup of chocolate."

I nodded, and made to leave, "Headmaster," I said as I was halfway out of the room, "if the Founders really wanted the houses to stand together, why bother splitting them apart?"

The Headmaster mulled over the thought for a while, and then bitterly smiled, "I think, Mister Umbrus, that they wished to compromise with Salazar Slytherin's desire not to teach everyone. He was their friend, and they did not want to lose him."

"Ah, I see," I answered in turn, "It didn't help them keep him, did it?"

"I'm afraid it did not," the Headmaster sighed, and bid me farewell just as I waved him goodbye.

My steps through the hallways of Hogwarts brought me past unfamiliar faces, all the way up to the sixth floor. I waited until I was reasonably sure no one else would swing by, ad then stepped inside the Room of Requirements once more.

"Depulso!" I all but snarled as soon as the door behind me closed, the old bludger half a foot away from my face. He tumbled back, and I ran to the other end of the room. Apparently, I had the thing summoned, but I couldn't get it to disappear. Thus, my practicing had taken a sudden spike for the deadly.

Indeed, as Dumbledore had said, all things were to be taken in moderation.

My incredibly terrified reflexes aside, I couldn't wait for the dueling club.

Maybe Snape would give me points if I challenged and defeated Gilderoy Lockhart?

The bludger missed my head by a few centimeters, and my thoughts snapped back to the present moment. I couldn't distract myself; not until I got down the spell to stop the Bludger from making paste of my bones.

"Depulso!" I chanted once more, keeping the thing at bay. "Depulso!" I was getting good at it. "Depulso!" now if only I could keep my calm and read through the damn book on Bludgers...

Still, the smile on my face remained.

Gilderoy Lockhart would meet a terrible end at the year's end-CRUNCH.

Notice to self. No daydreaming with live wizard-seeking ammunition. NEVER AGAIN.

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Year Two - Chapter Eleven

I could hear the metaphorical clock tick. I could hear it, and thus there was little doubt that eventually it would strike the midnight doom scenario. My eyes zeroed on the calendar more often than not, my fingers twitched, my ears strained for the strangest of sounds. Any bathroom could be a deadly trap filled with yellowish eyes. Behind any corner could a giant snake lurk. No, for the sake of my sanity, I had to keep my cool.

There would be no deaths this year at Hogwarts. I needed to practice and get the best springy legs possible, not bother with Gilderoy's lessons and absolutely not risking professor Snape's wrath. Then again, it was hard to. As long as Neville didn't make anything explode and silently ate his loss of points for, perhaps, breathing a bit too loudly, then he was fine in handing points over to the Ravenclaw House.

The end result was that as October's Halloween fest rolled around, I had the inkling that something would go terribly wrong. It was just a sixth sense; it was nothing pretentious. It wasn't like something could go wrong. I hadn't altered the rails so much that something would, thus...

"There aren't any more Nargles in my room," the blond, half-asleep Luna Lovegood said, gingerly looking up at me. I looked down and gave her a grin, before most happily patting her head.

"Good to hear," I said nonchalantly. "If they do come back, just ask, and I'll deal with them again. It's my job as official Nargle-Exterminator," I quipped, and then looked around at the festivities in the Hogwarts' Main Hall. Everyone was here, except for the trio. They had something to go to, and if things went as I suspected they would, then Mrs Norris would soon become a beautiful cat-statue.

Luna glanced up as I chewed on a piece of pumpkin pie. I had already reached the dessert while the others were still at the end of their first meal. Their slowness made them mediocre in the battle for food. The juiciest picks belonged to those who struck first, struck fast, and struck hard.

The feast over with, we walked our way back to our tower in neat, ordained lines of happily fed Ravenclaws. A crowd blocked our passage by the second floor, the professors already there and trying to get the students to move on. I passed by the message written on the wall, and the watery puddle on the ground. The petrified form of Mrs. Norris had already been taken off, but the message remained.

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir...beware. The fact even the three periods had been written was ludicrous, in my humble mind, but apparently Tom Riddle really wanted to make it clear. He could have written the Beware a bit bigger below the rest of the sentence for an added oomph-factor, but then again, it wasn't like Voldemort had actual style in the way he did things.

"What do you think that means?" Amanda whispered, "The Chamber of Secrets...looks interesting, doesn't it?"

"With Harry Potter in our school, when is a year not interesting?" I retorted, much to Amanda's puzzled frown.

"I didn't take you for a Potter fan, Shade," Amanda said. "You've got this look of disgust on you whenever you look in his direction..."

I blinked. "Disgust?" I muttered. "I do not have a look of disgust when I look at him," only of potential wasted, I reckoned. Then again, it was the kind of look I gave to half the children around me. It wasn't their fault, and I wouldn't make it one. It wasn't disgust as much as annoyance too. It was a really watered-down annoyance too. They were children. It wasn't like I had practiced furiously my Calculus skill while in first grade; there would have been no point in it back then.

"Then if that's your normal face, you're kind of a sour candy, right?" Amanda said next, giggling at that and playfully punching my shoulder. Hard. Quite hard. It was still tender, my bone. I hissed at that. "Don't be such a pansy, it's just ribbing."

"Bone had to regrow after an accident with a bludger," I grumbled. "Darn thing wouldn't take no, please, don't break my bones, for an answer." I shuddered briefly. "Always be careful when facing bludgers. They do not understand pity, or mercy."

Amanda's fingers grabbed hold of my sleeve, her eyes glittering with sudden and vivid interest. "You have a bludger?"

"No," I said swiftly. "I found it roaming in the wilds of the Forbidden Forest, a wild, savage thing," I continued building on my lie. "The damn thing had to be pulverized into minuscule fragments to prevent it from seeking new, young flesh."

Amanda pouted. "Damn."

The riddling door remained open from the first Ravenclaw to step through, and thus we just walked right in our common hall, where the Prefects had seemingly gathered all of the House. It was a bit cramped, but we found a corner near the wall.

"Everyone here? Everyone safe? Good!" one of the prefects spoke. "Now, listen up!" he clapped his hands, silencing everyone. "This may just be a prank, a bad one, but still one. However this doesn't mean you get to ignore it. If someone knows something about it, then they should speak with Professor Flitwick as soon as possible."

A few hands raised. "What's the Chamber of Secrets?" someone asked. "What did the message mean with the Heir?" another asked. In a matter of minutes, questions and answers were traded, some wildly far fetched, and others surprisingly on point about a monster lurking in the chamber and seeking to kill all Muggleborns for the glory of Blood Purity.

That night, I couldn't get a wink of sleep.

"Was it opened before, this chamber thing?" I asked offhandedly to Professor McGonagall during our regular tea, scone and transfiguration mishaps private time. The old Scottish woman's lips thinned, and then she grimaced.

"It did happen once, yes," she acquiesced. "Before I came to teach at Hogwarts," she added. "It was quite the scandal." She took a sip of her tea, and I did the same with mine. "But this is probably a cruel, callous prank."

"Mrs Norris was petrified," I said softly. "If it were a spell, it could be countered, couldn't it?"

"Dark curses are seldom easy to counter," Minerva answered. "Some things, like transfiguration accidents, are seldom without permanent consequences if done wrongly." She eyed me with a half-accusing stare, and I simply felt my ears burn from the shame at being called off.

"Pronunciation is hard," I muttered, "I'm practicing on it," I added. "Next time, I won't kill anything."

"I would hope so," professor McGonagall sighed. I took a bite out of the scone. "What about this year's Christmas gifts, Mister Umbrus?"

I grinned. "I did mugs last time, so this year I was thinking about ear-muffs and hats, but to keep it a surprise, I've been practicing the permanent charm," I smiled. "That way, it can be a surprise for you too, professor."

Minerva took another sip, and then her lips spread ever so slightly into the hint of a smile. "I see, well then, I will suggest you read certain books on Transfiguration to ensure the permanent charm actually works as intended, Mister Umbrus. It would be a shame to see a gift turn into a rock by year's end, wouldn't you agree?"

I nodded. With the titles written on a parchment, I knew what extra work I'd put myself up for.

What I hadn't expected was to find myself staring at Professor Binns' form during History of Magic, and wondering when the ghost had gone off the deep end.

He didn't just give us homework.

He gave us the most annoying, boring, out-of-body experience ever conceived.

I wanted the goblin revolts back. At least there were wars involved, and blood, and people dying and whatever.

The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards was as boring as watching paint dry.

They spoke of the correct length of wizards and witches' hat for one whole week, after all.

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Year Two - Chapter Twelve

Give a man a fire, and he'll be warm for one day. Teach a man how to make a fire, and he'll be warm for as long as he can make them. Put a man on fire, and you'll get arrested for murder. Thus, if there's a fire, clearly ensure you are as far away from any gasoline, or any burning men, as possible. Otherwise, if you're going to burn, throw yourself into the depths of the burning inferno, and ensure you are fireproof down to your underwear.

"Professor Lockhart, I wished to study some great spells for Dragon Slaying. Clearly, I want to be better prepared when your next book comes out," my eyes glittered. My voice gushed with unspoken praise. The professor laughed.

"Now that would be spoilers! Rest assured, dragons are perhaps a bit too cliché to fight, and they're a species nearing extinction," he neared me and whispered, in a hush and conspiratorial tone, "Because of me, of course!"

I beamed him a big smile, and excitedly placed my hands on the desk. "That's so cool!" I said, "This makes me want to read even more on the subject, professor!"

"Ah, there are so many books on the subject," he replied, holding on his flawless smile, "A wise chap like yourself will surely know the best books," he winked in my direction, "From a Ravenclaw to another, a little boost in your research," he easily wrote me a slip, and with it I walked out of his office, nearly hitting Hermione, who was instead the next in line.

"Ah, Shade," Hermione said, looking at me. I grinned and gave her a friendly wave. "You're having problems with Professor Lockhart's spells too?" as she said that, I simply shrugged.

"I haven't even tried them," I whispered in her direction, walking past her. "Fantasy and reality are two different things, Hermione."

I made my way towards the library, a quill and an ink pot all that I needed to write down the titles of some books I might need to read. I didn't need to be greedy. I needed to be smart about it. Thus, I walked out of the Restricted Section, much to Madam Pince's sour face, with a few books that weren't probably meant to be read until a higher year. It was not my fault that Professor Lockhart had given me the go ahead to literally empty the library, and while it was true that a wiser professor might eventually swoop in and take them back, I'd get some copies of the spell written down.

It was thus with the glorious imagery of conjuring meteorites from the very skies that I popped myself on an armchair in the Room of Requirement, ensured no pipes nor baths would open up in the room, and then had the door sealed from the inside to prevent anyone from slithering in. This was the safest room in all of Hogwarts; and as long as I kept it that way, my haven of safety from murderous, homicidal ghosts, evil Horcrux-possessed little first year Gryffindors and their pet Basilisks.

I flipped the first of the books open, cozy and with a cup of hot coffee in one of my hands. I lifted my free hand, and the book began to gently float in front of my face. I twirled a finger, and the page turned. Humming about the ludicrous situation, I took another sip. "I've got the ancient wizard's part down perfectly," I mused to myself, sighing blissfully. Outside, the windows were showing a typical Scottish storm.

A chimney's fire pit appeared in a corner of the Room of Requirements, crackling with fire and warming the room up.

A lightning bolt streaked the clouds, my eyes drawn to the spells for atmospheric manipulation. Dangerous, dark, forbidden spells to ensure your tower of evil always had that cozy thunderstorm, or to get the heat just right to scorch the skin off those peasants that refused to pay your generous taxes. Delivering a drought to a village, or pouring rain down their chimneys, were all quite interesting spells.

The bigger the part of the sky one wished to change, the wider the swings of the wand, the greater the concentration and so forth. It was interesting. There was even a spell to get thunderclap to explode in the background whenever something was said. This was quite funny, rather than dark. Mister Umbrus-who the hell made the glass explode!? It would be too funny to pass up, and perhaps would be a perfect prank to boot.

I flipped through the pages, and then came to a halt.

Fulgur Percutiens, for when you wish to tell your peasants to bow to your might. Used in Ancient Greece by a petty tyrant who wished to keep the population at bay, and have his way with the pretty maidens, it is a difficult spell to master, but quite powerful. The force of lightning is seldom something fought off, even by the most complex of shielding charms.

I sighed. "This looks like the Unlimited Power thingie," I imagined Harry Potter wielding a light saber, fighting off a lightning-throwing Voldemort. My brows furrowed. Was this how the Zeus myth began? I shook my head. This wasn't the time for it. Though perhaps slamming a lightning bolt down the Basilisk throat would be a surefire way of winning against the beast?

Still, there was no way such a powerful spell could be so easily learned. There had to be a catch, as with all strong magics. Perhaps I'd get sparks at first. Maybe I'd get electrocuted. No, experimenting on these kind of things was not how I planned on spending the months before Christmas. I let the book land on the nearby table, and then extended my hand to summon forth the Transfiguration one.

Without moving from my armchair, which was quite comfy and warm, I tapped my wand against the book to let it rise. From my backpack, a small collection of rocks began to float in front of me.

"Lapifors," I said, tapping with my wand at the first of the rocks.

There was a shift, a lurch, and then the rock cracked into some kind of stone-like rabbit. It had rocky whiskers, and its ears broke as it tried to lift them. I awkwardly looked at the monstrosity, and tapped against its sides again, returning it to the rock it had previously been.

"La-pi-fors," I stressed the words out. The stone rabbit that formed hopped a bit around, broke into pieces, and then stared at my face as if I had betrayed its hopes and dreams. "You're making me look like the bad person," I grumbled in the direction of the rabbit's head. I extended my hand, letting the pieces float back together with a lazy twirl of my fingers. "Lap-i-fors," I stressed out.

The rabbit formed. It was fluffy. It was white. It was made of chunks of grisly flesh sewed together from the cracked stone and it began to bleed.

It cried out, a pitiful, whimpering cry as it fell on the ground much to my surprise, and my shock.

I watched the squirming pieces slowly stop moving, returning to stone. The blood dried into dust, becoming fine sand. I swallowed, noisily, and then took another sip of my coffee to steady myself, only to find my mug empty.

"Tweak? Can I get something strong to drink?"

A butterbeer appeared out of thin air.

It wasn't strongly alcoholic, but it was strong all the same in all of the right ways.

In the background, a thunder roared through the skies.

What tangled webs we weave...

...what do you mean Amanda went into the Forbidden Forest looking for stray bludgers!?

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Year Two - Chapter Thirteen

There we were, the five of us.

There we were, my own patience running incredibly thin just as my worry increased ten times with each step we took into the Forbidden Forest. "I can understand Amanda, since she's lost some wheels in her head from one too many falls from the broomstick," I said dryly, "But why are you three in this too?"

Luna's seraphic calm seemed to spread from her to the others, and she gave me a gentle smile, as if explaining something ever so simple. "Well, since Nargles have been removed in the school, in order to seek them out I must go in the wilds." She explained it as if it was obvious; what wasn't obvious was the willingness to sacrifice someone's well being and safety in the castle, basilisk lurking its halls notwithstanding, with the very definite risk of ending up food for some manner of dangerous wizard-eating beast in the wilderness.

"We can still seek the lake's shore from here, Shade," Megan said, "And I thought we might find some interesting potions' ingredients."

"I decided to come along because it looked interesting," Wayne added, the one with the feeblest of excuses ever. Still, I couldn't help but pinch the bridge of my nose and keep a worried look around us.

"What about asking Hagrid, the Gamekeeper?" I hazarded.

"He said that they lost half a dozen bludgers in the Forbidden Forest, and not all of them were recovered," Amanda said, chirping the knowledge out as if amazed by it.

"And he didn't try to stop any of you?" I muttered in disbelief. "Hagrid, do your job at the very least," I grumbled.

"He gave us his dog," Megan said. "He said that since we were your friends, he could trust us to give him a walk." I stared at the five monsters of cold logic, and then looked around. Megan awkwardly shifted her weight from one leg to the other, "We let him slip in the forest," she mumbled, looking downcast.

"Accio, Fang!" I all but bellowed with my wand outstretched. There was a yip from a certain distance, and a massive dog came flying towards us, leaving behind a trail of foam and saliva. He landed straight on his paws, woofing happily at my sight. His eyes betrayed his intelligence; he too didn't want to be in the forest, and he too had tried to run away from it, but his sense of directions was as horrible as mine, and thus he had gotten lost into the depths.

"There you are, my brother in arms," I said with relief, kneeling to hug the large doggo who was the best-est doggo ever. He woofed, happily throwing his leash my way for me to hold on to. "Now," I said most amiably as I stood back up, dusting my robes. "We can leave this hellish forest behind us and-"

"No," Amanda said, resolutely. "I want to catch a bludger."

"Probably right in the face," Wayne piped in, and I couldn't help but snicker at the joke. Megan's lips twitched in amusement too. Luna, instead, remained beatifically calm. She was looking beneath small leafs and using a stick to push the dirt away. She even briefly stopped to watch a caterpillar rise over a tree trunk. Said caterpillar birthed wings in a few instants, and then flew off without becoming a butterfly.

It had to be a magical caterpillar, hence a magical monster meant to suck the souls of the innocents out of their bodies.

"Yeah, yeah, funny," Amanda lifted her wand. "I've got a wand with a jinx on it and your name on the list."

"Let's give Fang a walk," I said, "Keeping our eyes on the lake's shores," I continued, gazing at all five of the dunderheads, much to Fang's pitiful whining. I shared his pain, and his disbelief at me being roped in such a suicidal thing. "And if a bludger coincidentally ends up flying near us, we can try to capture it."

"We can see the shore from further in the forest," Amanda said. I looked at her, and she looked back at me with her wand still in her hand.

"You don't want to do this, Amanda," I said, my left hand's fingers twitching ever so slightly by my side.

"Oh?" she smiled, the smile of victory. "What about it, Shade?"

"Petrificus Totalus!" Megan took the cue, and Amanda's body stiffened ever so slightly before falling to the side. I looked at the Hufflepuff, who in turned looked back at me unashamed and unafraid. "What? It wears off in a matter of minutes."

I glanced up at the sky, hidden by the trees' canopy, and then quietly got Amanda's wand in my hand. "You'll get this back once we're back on a safe track," I grumbled, lifting her up with a spell out of my own wand. "You know how badly this is going to look if Filch sees her like that, no?"

"Well," Megan shyly brought one of her hands behind her head. "W-We Hufflepuffs didn't do anything, sir. It was the Ravenclaws. They're the odd ones!"

"Is there a Wrackspurt infestation?" Luna asked, looking from Megan to me, and then to Wayne and the petrified Amanda. "Because if there is, the remedy is to think happy thoughts and the Wrackspurts will go away. I'll start," she smiled, looking at each of us in turn.

"Let's not throw any of us under the metaphorical train," I grumbled, walking in the direction of the lake's shore. Once there, we'd just lay her on the shore and wait for the petrification to wear off. "A couple of minutes and she'll be right as rain, right?"

Wayne's eyebrows furrowed. "Why should rain be right? Doesn't the wind make it fall sideways sometimes?"

I looked at Fang. Fang barked, happily waggling its tail at being out of the Forbidden Forest. I sat down by his side, and stared at the lake's ripples. As if on cue, the others all sat down nearby. If only there was someone willing to paint the scene, I was relatively sure it would be half inspiring and half utterly hilarious. There we were, a Ravenclaw with a large dog by his side, another first year Ravenclaw looking at her Butterbeer Corks' necklace, and a third one instead with her arm outstretched, staring at the sky from her petrified position.

The two Hufflepuffs sat nearby, playing with the Wizard Cards and waiting for the time to pass on a large and smooth stone.

It was such a tranquil thing.

Tranquility shattered when Amanda's arm flopped down, and the angry twelve, maybe thirteen year old girl stood up and looked at me, her hand extended. "My wand," she huffed.

"Aye," I said, gingerly giving it back.

She then turned, and flung a hex at Megan.

Megan answered in turn.

Wayne scuttled closer to me, the Wizard Cards in hand. "Want to play?" he asked, letting the two girls fire off stinging hexes at one another.

"Can I play too?" Luna asked, innocently ignoring everything happening in the background.

"Let's make it a three players' game," I said, shaking my head.

My tranquil days, my peaceful days, my happy days...

...shattered, as if a bludger had broken through.

But then again, I was smiling all the same.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

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Year Two - Chapter Fourteen

Was it the darkness that made things scary, or was it the knowledge of what lurked in the dark that did it? Would a child born in darkness fear it, or would he come to embrace it? The unknown terrifies, the known scares, but that which we know how to fight cannot scare us at all. The month of November saw the cold descend like a frosty blanket over the windows and the courtyard, the Herbology classrooms held outside became dangerous traps of warm sweating, until the biting cold trapped us on the way back.

I sneezed.

My eyes fluttered to the ceiling of my room, and I sneezed a bit more.

Dragging my sorrowful body to the infirmary was out of the question, thus I remained exactly where I was, lamenting my sad state in the back of my mind. I sought no comfort from the cup of coffee by my side. I wasn't hungry, just miserable. My fill of pain and mucus was had, and if only I knew a recipe to prevent this terrifying thing known as common cold, then I would brew and drink the result, regardless of the ingredients used.

November, you damn month of ice and frost, why do you belittle me so? Do you not understand that I am a creature of the Mediterranean? Do you not comprehend that temperatures are meant to stay mild and lukewarm, and never to rise or drop sharply to unspoken degrees? My sea, where are you? My beautiful, salty sea, where are you?

"Mister Umbrus," I heard the angelic voice of Madam Pomfrey, "You look sick."

"Ungh grumf," I grumbled back, eyes half-closed.

"Bottoms' up," she said, and something glass-like ended up in my mouth before a pungent, spicy liquid burned down my tongue, my throat and my everything. When they say you have to sweat your sickness out, the wizards took it literally. First came the steam, then came the sweat, and finally as I lay in a puddle, I dimly realized the fever had utterly disappeared together with my sickness.

I stood up, and stared at Madam Pomfrey with a look akin to wonder. "You're an angel, Madam," I whispered.

"And you're a hassle, Mister Umbrus," Madam Pomfrey replied with a stern smirk, if such a thing was even possible. "Go freshen up and then head to class. I'll write you a permission slip to excuse your lateness."

With that being said, I now had to reach the Potions' classroom. Professor Snape would probably take points away from Ravenclaw for my lateness, regardless of me showing the permission slip or not. Thus, permission slip in hand, I began to walk my way down to the Potions' classroom. I furrowed my brows as I looked at the slip. The penmanship was remarkable, but so too was the signature. Perhaps if I could forge it, I could get some free time off History of Magic and its useless drivel.

My right foot touched something wet, and I froze. Glancing down from the slip, I realized it was a puddle of water.

My breathing hitched as I closed my eyes sharply. I was on the second floor. I was headed for the potions' classroom and I was on the second floor. I clutched the permission slip tightly and took a step, and then another. My right hand touched the wall as I kept on moving straightforwardly, squeezing the slip in my other hand as if it were a lifeline.

It was going to be all right. Moaning Myrtle might have made the bathroom explode again. It didn't really need to be the Basilisk having come out to play. For all that the school knew, I was a half-blood.

"Hey, where are you going with your eyes closed?" a female voice asked me, a squeaky, first-year female voice. My thoughts immediately ran to Ginny Weasley being possessed by Tom Riddle, and thus I gave the first year a smile in the direction of the noise.

"Stupid Weasley twins and their pranking," I said with a sigh. "Glued my eyes shut and left me in a cupboard."

The girl gasped ever so slightly, "I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "Those two never learn." A small hand grabbed hold of my left. "I'll bring you to the infirmary." The hand was small, and wet. I had a bad feeling. I had a really bad feeling.

My bad feeling intensified as I dimly came to the conclusion that there was something, every now and then, creaking in the pipes alongside the wall.

Was this how the lamb felt when he was brought to the butcher's table?

"Yeah," I said dryly, "To think they come from a pureblood family," I continued, and I felt the fingers of the girl's hand tense in my grip. "They're really a waste."

"Is that so?" the girl said. "I didn't peg a Ravenclaw for believing in Blood purity," she continued.

"I believe that some people are inherently better than others," I grumbled. "If that's from their pedigree, their blood or their inherent skill and abilities...then clearly, it must be because their ancestors were great wizards and witches too. Look at me, I'm an orphan, but my father came from a proud family of Purebloods and I'm worth ten times a Weasley-"

The hand tensed a bit more. Hook. Line. Sinker. Survival.

"Oh, I took the wrong turn," she said. The direction we went for changed, and soon I found myself brought to sit on an infirmary bed. "Now I need to run or I'll be late for my lessons," she continued, "Have a nice day."

"You too," I said, "And thanks."

For not having given me to the Basilisk to petrify.

She walked away, and I waited, patiently, until I felt reasonably safe into cracking an eye open. The Infirmary lacked Madam Pomfrey, probably gone somewhere else. Only I stood there, my hands trembling.

The door of the infirmary opened, and Madam Pomfrey came in once more, only to widen her eyes at my sight. "Mister Umbrus!" she exclaimed, her eyes looking over me, "You're deathly pale-maybe it wasn't just a common flu?" she continued, coming near to let her hand touch my forehead. "You're freezing."

"Aye," I hissed out. "As if I touched death itself," I trembled out.

"Well, not quite like that, but yes, now lay down lad. Stay down and breathe," she instructed me, and I obeyed.

Kill the Weasley. Save the School. No, I can't kill a little possessed girl.

Kill the Basilisk. Save the School. The kill-on-sight needs a counter.

Get the Phoenix to rip the Basilisk's eyes out and then save the school.

We are going to do that, and we are going to do it on the double.

The Shadenight123 Corner is now online. Hugs need not apply. My Twitter. My FB Page.

My Amazon Book Page. My Smashwords Book Page. UBL For The Investigator and the Case of the Missing Brain. UBL for The Race. UBL for The Investigator and the Fury of the Fog. UBL for Prim and Proper. UBL for I, Master.

My . Since people kept asking. I'll keep writing wherever and whenever, but if you want to feel like one of the coffees I drink is offered by you, feel free.

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Year Two - Chapter Fifteen

I sighed as I stepped inside the room of requirements. In order to kill the white whale, I needed a harpoon capable of harming it. In order to harm it, while in the background the Quidditch cup played, I had no choice but to practice dangerous, forbidden magic. This was a Catch-twenty-two situation from which there was no escape. I needed to use Dark Arts to defeat a Dark Arts creature, which would in turn probably make me a Dark Arts wizard and if found out, it would send me to Azkaban.

On the plus side, my wand would be definitely happy about it.

"Fulgur Percutiens," I chanted, swishing my wand in front of me. Sparks sailed from the tip into the air, hitting the mannequin with a flickering lightning as if a long-distance taser had been used. My lips twisted ever so slightly as I felt the warmth crawl through my wand. I could feel it. A great power, just inches away, just as long as I let go of the inhibitions and allowed it to pour through.

I brought my wand hand back, took a deep breath, centered myself, and then roared it louder than I had ever roared a spell before, "Fulgur! Percutiens!" the thundering lightning bolt struck through the air, it sizzled with thundering might as it incinerated the mannequin in front of it, carved dark, black marks of soot on the ground, and then bounced, ripping through the shelves and the books and setting them ablaze.

I hissed as I swished my wand away, the lightning coming less.

My breathing hitched.

My wand's warmth and glowing-like feeling told me that this, this was what power truly felt like. This was what a wizard was supposed to be. Thunder. Lightning. Might.

"All right," I breathed out. "We're in our element right now." Everything else had been done with practice. Everything else was us, working an everyday eight-hours a day office job. This was us working on what we truly loved and cherished. An union of a wizard's will and a wand's desire. This was what having a natural affinity to something meant. It didn't make one smarter, but it did make the magic stronger, for a certain definition of it.

"Where there's a will, there's a way," I muttered, swishing the wand to let the Incendio in my mind form across its tip, twirling like a thin line and then shooting off like a sentient whip. My left hand guided the jet of flames, even as I twitched my wrist, letting the spell itself snap like a whip would. The flames would not hurt me; magic would prevent it. I made an encore gesture with my left hand, and the flames from my wand spluttered briefly, before increasing in intensity.

Deep breaths, and then I swished the wand. The flames spluttered out. "Fulgur Percutiens," I chanted once more, lightning leaving my wand.

The mannequins were vaporized just as quickly as they were replaced. The lightning sparkled across their frames, burning, shattering, ripping them at their seams as a strange smell filled the air of the Room of Requirements. Yet, I needed to practice it even more. Until it became ingrained, until it became easy, until it became a part of me, as easy to cast as it would be for me to breathe.

I needed something to protect me, and I needed something to strike the basilisk down. More importantly, I needed Fawkes to follow me. That would be problematic, since I wasn't Harry Potter, but perhaps I didn't need to be Harry Potter. Perhaps, all that I needed was merely to ask, to speak up, to tell the Phoenix I needed their help.

Maybe that would work.

I didn't know if the Room of Requirements could bring me in the Chamber of Secrets or not. Technically it was still in the school, the sewers of it, but at the same time I didn't want to risk finding out until my battle plan was ready. If I had some kind of toxin, I could maybe dump it all down the drain and let the basilisk choke to its death, or perhaps copious amounts of Fiendfyre would work too.

I had neither.

What I did have was a set of very dangerous Dark Arts books that needed to be returned by the month's end, more problems than answers, and the feeling of elation that came from literally flinging lightning bolts at straw mannequins.

When I left the Room of Requirements later that day, the shaking had gone down from my limbs considerably, but my fear had merely been replaced with a grim determination, not the bravery of courage, or the happiness of satisfying the minimum requirements for challenging something like the Basilisk.

Dinner was a somber affair. "Where did you end up, Shade?" Amanda asked, "You missed the match! A possessed Bludger tried to strike down Harry Potter, and then Lockhart removed his bones." She grinned as she said that. "Also, they gave us back the Hufflepuffs for potions!" she added. "Longbottom made such a mess we couldn't do our lesson, so we're recovering it with the Hufflepuffs."

"I guess Megan will be happy to know she'll finally be eligible for House Points once more," since Snape would never give points to anyone but the Slytherin if they were together with another House, only when Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were together did he actually act like a normal professor, giving and taking points with a modicum of normality.

Without exaggerating too much, of course, because Snape was still Snape, no matter the Houses in front of him.

"You haven't answered yet," Amanda said, staring at me. "Where did you end up?"

"A bit here, a bit there, a bit sick, a lot sick," I shuddered. "Took Madam Pomfrey three potions to get me back on track. She nearly thought I'd been cursed."

Amanda huffed, "You need to practice what you preach and look out for yourself too, Shade," she lifted her chin. "I've never been sick my entire life, you know? Sickness just doesn't stick to me."

"There's something about how idiots never catch colds," I mused back, glancing at the food in my plate. I wasn't feeling hungry. "Perhaps it's something like that?"

"Hey!" she narrowed her eyes, "Have you been speaking with my auntie?"

"I don't think so," I answered, "I don't even know whom your aunt is."

Amanda blinked. "Auntie Rolanda's the Quidditch referee and the flying instructor here at Hogwarts, Shade. I'm pretty certain I told you," she huffed. "You need to listen properly when people are speaking. It's rude otherwise."

I gave her a wry smile. "I'm sorry about that." I glanced around, and witnessed a flash of light from the Gryffindor's side of the table. My heart skipped a couple more beats.

Colin Creevey hadn't been petrified. This meant the rails had changed. They hadn't changed much, but they had changed. I couldn't risk a random factor making things worse, even to the point of causing a death. I couldn't risk it. Thus, I needed to jump right to the end of it. It was the only way to make sure things would proceed smoothly. Even if Lockhart never got mindwhammed, even if Dobby never broke free of Malfoy's clutches, what were they when compared to a life the basilisk might have taken?

That night, an invisible pair of hands shook me awake. I briefly watched a house elf nod at me, and then disappear with a quiet pop. My eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and slowly I stood up from my bed. My fellow ravens slept. I tiptoed my way out of my bed, fully dressed, and down the flight of stairs that would lead me to the sixth floor, and the Room of Requirements. At night, once the Prefects returned from their extended curfew, nobody patrolled the halls but the professors and the paintings. The best way to avoid the paintings was to move very quietly, because they too slept at night.

My steps brought me inside the Room of Requirements, and from there a door opened in the wall, which led me straight into Dumbledore's office, and its inner prize. I didn't step inside, but merely glanced from the door at Fawkes and its perch. The phoenix was sleeping on it, crooning softly with its feathers slowly dying away. I swallowed, and then extended a hand in the direction of the perch.

It didn't float up. It didn't as much as move. I hissed softly, and clenched my left hand. The perch didn't move an inch. The phoenix's soft snoring came less, though. The animal's vivid eyes opened, and it turned its head towards me.

"Please," I mouthed. "I need your help."

The Phoenix crooked its head to the side. It fluttered its wings briefly, and then flew off its perch. It landed with its talons on my shoulder, much to my chagrin, but I closed the door and felt the warmth of the giant magical creature on my side for the first time. Its voice was soft, and crooning.

I took a deep breath. "We're heading against a Basilisk," I whispered. "Petrifies with indirect sight, kills on sight," I continued. I bit my lips. "Can you rip his eyes out?" I whispered, looking up at the ember-colored eyes of the Phoenix, who crooned back gently.

The warmth that spread into my chest came from the beauty of its song.

"All right," I exhaled. "Off we go, being brave."

I took a deep breath, and watched as the wall of the Room of Requirements in front of us shifted and broke, revealing a stinking passage into the depths of the sewers. Second year students of Hogwarts had battled and faced the basilisk and lived. I was a second year armed with the knowledge of the books, and quite capable in the arts of magic if I said so myself.

There was no way this could go wrong. Come at me, Murphy. I've got a Phoenix.

Fawkes cheerfully cried as it fluttered its wings, and lifted itself off my shoulder to fly ahead and shed light in the labyrinth beneath the school.

Some students broke curfew and went feasting in the kitchen...

...others broke curfew to fight magical, mythological beasts spawned from hell.


	11. bleachgamer1

Jul 26, 2019

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This is a rewrite of my first very serious fic 'Spirit of the Gamer'. It is a Bleach/Gamer fic where... well, I used every horrid gamer trope now known. It IDs left and right, random loot, and just going to the sketchy manipulative people. It was... not good XD

So thought I give it another try but I can't promise it'll be good this time either.

Remember the golden Stew rule. Characters before Character sheets.

When playing spot the anime protagonist, what do you look for?

Well, besides the supernatural powers and weird coincidences that are totally not being controlled from the shadow by puppet masters? The hair. In a world dictated by the power of power-ups, magic, and bullshit magic swords, you always look for the hair.

In a sea of black hair, lightish brown, and a few spiky blond rebels sat a lone ginger. He was even sitting in that seat. Bored and looking out the window.

Good thing tradition was respected or I have a hard time believing I was here. Well, despite what my handy little power was saying.

Stealth has increased to level 4!

I should probably go back to the start of this sordid tale.

It began a long time ago...

4 hours earlier.

I might have just died.

I stared up at the unnatural blue sky of the world above me. I ached. That sucked.

Dead people shouldn't ache. Then again, maybe that's why they were so damn grumpy all the time? I closed my eyes.

I remembered smoke... heat... screaming of a scared lady. No wait, that was me. Well, what a way to go. I shifted and itchy gravel moved under me. It looked like that crap people put on their roofs to make people not want to spend time there.

Death by smoke. Always knew it would kill me in the end. I stood up with a wobble as I took in my afterlife. It was surprisingly... metro. White gleaming buildings, endless traffic, people buying from trendy shops.

Oddly, it was a bit tamer than I was expecting! Then again, dead people had been dying since people existed. I should have guessed they keep up with the living trends! I was on a very tall roof so I peered over the edge and nearly topped over to a new death by pavement by a ringing noise behind me. I spun, heart pounding as I saw the strangest thing yet.

A floating black box with white writing.

The game has started. There is no tutorial. Reality is what you make of it.

...You have rested outside in bad terrain. 10% healed!

The box remained and I stared.

The box remained floating. I stared.

Box. I.

I... swatted at it like it was a ghastly phantom. It blurred as my hand moved through it. Was this some system for the dead? Did we all get this? Why did mine have an ominous fortune cookie message?!

I finally hit some exit button in the corner and the window just blipped out of existence without so much as a howdy do.

So... that was happening. This was happening. I turned back to the city and decided, just for a moment, to pretend I was not dead. I let that thought go on its merry way, it picked up speed, hit a few snags and rebounded with a little question.

Where the hell or, hopefully, heaven was I?

I read signs in words that blurred between an odd house looking letters and English. The two blurred for a moment until all I saw was English. Ads advertised clothes, cars, fast food...

"Black box thing? Please help," I pleaded. Another box opened up and showed a map that was 99.999% filled in except for a tiny little island in the middle... which blinked cheerful white.

The top read a cheerful 20 Celcius, the side showed a sunny symbol with a tiny hint of cloud. The bottom read as Karakura Town, the right of the map bad a bar from gentle green at the bottom to high red at the top with the words 'Hollow population' stamped neatly long it.

"No, I refuse," I said bluntly. The map didn't seem to care about that at all. It blinked cheerfully and in the island of white with my little paler icon blinking, came a red symbol. What on earth was tha-

An explosion rocked the streets below and I grabbed the mesh chain fence as I fell from the shockwaves.

"Jesus Christ, everything is on fire! Again!" I yelled and threw myself to the ground in case the building felt like topping.

I felt it then, passing the sounds of screaming, cars honking horns, alarms screeching, and the sound of something crunching. A wave of pressing... horrid darkness. I couldn't breathe... I couldn't move.

Spiritual pressure exceeds your own! You are unable to move efficiently!

A black box announced as it appeared in my vision. Spirit... I moved my eyes up to where chunks of the chain fence were being ripped slowly apart by something yanking itself up. I couldn't see it... But I felt it.

A deep endless hunger and something primal in me wanted to curl up and hope it didn't see me. Wind exploded over me as something launched past, sailing over me. I didn't exist to it... I was worth nothing to it. I saw a slight blur of a thing and it was gone.

I was spared due to being nothing. Now there was a thought and a chilling one.

"Mr. Black Box? Can I go home?" I asked quietly. The box appeared it repeated its earlier words.

The game has begun.

"Can I not play?" I asked hopefully as my dread seemed to ebb with every second that creature put between us.

The box dinged once.

Reality is what you make of it. Playing is the same as not playing. Playing simply offers a longer existence.

...You have learned Danger Sense lv 1! Sense bloodlust and dangerous foes from a distance! Range: Within feet.

"Thanks, really useful," I groaned and sat up, pulling more gravel out my hair.

"Show me what I got to work with," I asked, deciding I might as well see if I could run next time I feel that monster... within feet of me. Yesh.

The box unfolded like paper art.

True name: Russel Rivers

Given name:

Nickname:

Title: The Gamer

Physical: 5

Spiritual: 5

Energy: 5

Mental: 5

Skills:

Danger sense 1: You can sense the danger of a truck traveling into your face within inches!

Gamer Body Max: Allows the body to be adaptable and attain growth.

Gamer Mind Max: Allows visualization of menus and pop-ups! Allows user to see unique Gamer elements in the world!

Quest: You have no motivations and thus deserve a pity pat.

"Can I turn off your attitude?" I asked with eyes narrowed. The box shifted.

The system was designed perfectly and functional. No options to allow tinkering. Please work hard not to die!

"Tell me why I should even work with you?" I waved a hand as I tried to gather my thoughts.

System lets you see skills and effort rewarded. It also lets you use stat points and other functions. System is key to not dying. Dying is bad. Please do not terminate life User. Dying is not good.

The words dug deeper with each line.

"I don't like you."

System is honored.

I closed the damn thing. I knew one thing for sure. If this was... if this was... the damn world of a cleaning product then I was in massive danger. Being in this city was like asking to be eaten, crushed, turned into an evil gimp monster, have your soul sucked out, get used by a smug ass to reach God, or even worse, get dragged into teenage drama bullshit!

This town sucked and yet I'm not sure I could leave because outside this town. I knew nothing and I was pretty sure there had to be other afterlives and hollows abound.

What if I ran into something worse than Aizen plotting his wicked schemes?

But staying meant I had to deal with Aizen...

The Aizen I know... or the Aizen I don't know?

Well, fuck it. I might as well see where the heck I was in this magical timeline. I just needed to find a school with a pissed-off looking ginger kid.

How hard could that be?

Quest accepted: Find out if you're doomed or not! Reward: 1 Stat point. Failure: Bitter crippling fear of the unknown.

Shush you.

Karakura Academy, Karakura Reform School. Karakura Culinary school. Jesus Christ, I just wanted a damn anime protag, how hard could this be?!

I stopped as people gave me an odd look but I could hardly blame them. I was walking around with no shoes in a tank top and shorts.

I was lucky it was so hot...

I stomped to the next location on my tourist map.

Karakura school was marked seven times on the map and this better be the one I'm looking for or I might just give up.

Crippling despair of unknown will be received upon failure. Would you like to 'give up'?

I closed it. I stopped responding after the fourth time it asked. It clearly liked pissing me off.

I slowed as the building came into view. Hot damn... it was hazy but this looked like the place! I could almost see where Orihime would fight exploding squid tentacle, parasite bitch.

God, Hollows were fucking weird.

So it was early enough that school hadn't started and I bet hanging outside the main gate would get the police on me pretty fast... I looked around and saw there were no good waiting spots. There was also the secondary problem of shelter... food... resources... giant monsters. Common issues of a homeless person.

"How come you haven't given me an 'observe' skill or heat resistance or... ya know... stats for walking?" I scratched at my chin as I asked.

Looking at things like you are mentally challenged does not count as observing things. You barely got a suntan and if walking for an hour made you fit, obesity would be a fairy tale. System rewards effort. Not whims.

"So you wanna see me suffer?"

System prefers... encouraging growth under duress!

"I don't like you."

Note 45 of this remark is store for emotional value to System for later need of cheer.

I shut it off and decided I might as well see if I could get into a spot to stalk some kids via inside their school building. It let me see if I could actually do this whole... Gamer thing. I slipped into the open door and vanished into a toilet. I pushed up into the ceiling panel and shimmed inside.

Most schools had some decent spacing under their floors for wiring and the occasional horror story.

I walked carefully along with the pink insulation that keeps the building warm and the outside out. I soon found what I was looking for. A slim shaft that had connections and wires running up it.

This was going to suck to climb but I remembered... that my Anime Protag, Ichigo Kurosaki, had a classroom high up.

Now, I had to just shimmy up this shaft, sneak about. Avoid deadly spirit using teenagers, and hopefully not find a dead body!

I wasn't optimistic about any of this.

Wisdom increased by 1!

I grinned until my face fell.

"I don't have a wisdom stat," I said bluntly.

System is proud of you regardless for trying.

I was going to murder my power long before Aizen could get me.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

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Jul 26, 2019

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Threadmarks 2: Headcount

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Jul 27, 2019

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#46

Climbing up the insides of a building without falling or kicking your foot through thin cheap walls was actually a lot harder than it seemed. I strained up the tiny shaft to the next floor as I crawled through webs so old that their spidery owners had left it to their grandchildren.

Grasping what I thought was a secure ledge turned out to be rotten through and I nearly slid all the way to the bottom. My rough feet managed to retain enough grip as I pushed my back into the other side. I waited as the wood clattered all the way down to the bottom. The shaking in my legs to hold myself up wasn't looking great.

I reached for the next solid thing and prayed it would hold as I dragged myself up. My hands felt like they would never be clean again.

I could not wait to do that anime thing where I stand three buildings away and can see perfectly to someone and look smug. That sure as hell beat angry spiders and splinters.

By the effort of climbing a dangerous shaft with no equipment, you have earned the 'Climbing' skill.

Climbing lv 1: Scale surfaces or people with better speed and accuracy. Physical skill.

I nearly fell again as the System gave a little fanfare with this announcement. I glared at the box but didn't offer a response. If I argued with it now I would be heard from the other side of the building. I tested myself and maybe... if I wanted to be kind, my fingertips took a nanosecond to get a grip than before the skill.

And people? What kind of people did the System think I would be climbing?

I trudged up and finally saw the next crawlspace. I judged myself to be on the third floor if I counted right. I pulled myself in.

Climbing is now level 2! Fingers now gripper a nanosecond faster!

My look could have withered hollows.

System is designed to cheer user up. Jokes are good for this. Skills will show bigger differences the higher it goes. Don't die user!

I carefully moved along the pink insides of the space and risked lifting a tile to peek below. Random hallways with students. I decided that I needed to head inwards where I could and start stalking children from my dark space above.

It wasn't creepy, it was important.

Which lead to my staring at Ichigo Kurosaki. I didn't want to breathe, I didn't want to think... the person who killed god people and was the scariest child around.

The issue was that I had no idea what looking at Ichigo told me. I tried to examine his form, looking for marks or unnatural muscle definition. I couldn't see anything but a bored teen. I guess that was the problem with trying to look at the physical shell that Ichigo spent hardly any time in once shit went down.

Fine, there were other telling signs!

I carefully looked around at the sea of heads. I saw the stand-alone giant of the class. He looked... well... normal as Sado did. Orihime was talking quietly and cheerfully with a tomboy girl with short hair.

Rukia... Rukia... were you around?

I saw a flash of glasses as an elegant looking teen seemed to look out the window. His dark hair and glasses actually hid his eyes. Woah... how did he do that? Well, there was no Rukia but that didn't say much. Pre-canon or anywhere between arcs that girl was elsewhere.

I could really use that Observe skill for being so observant!

I didn't even get a box to taunt me. I was let down for a moment but knew that moping was getting me nowhere. Okay, maybe just looking for faces and headcounts didn't exactly mean I should be given information tabs.

Let me try this again...

I focused and saw Ichigo, while bored, was also taking quick notes at times. His head turned to the board occasionally and his textbook was open to the chapter ahead of the rest of the class. Orihime was showing Tatsuki a magazine of food. The black-haired girl had trained and grew with Ichigo. Right now her expression looked more exasperated as if trying to tell Orihime off for something.

Uyru was still sort of staring out the window, frowning deeply. Not much else to say besides his work was perfect and his notes were exact. Sado was a stone pillar that could either be plotting the world's demise or fast asleep.

The guy was rather stoic...

...The System admits the User has sharply focused on minute details. Observe lv 1 has been gained.

Observe lv 1: See information about targets. Right now, the only information the user knows already can be summed up

I could feel my smugness rising before the system spoke up again.

User has learned how to gain information by spying on underage people without their consent. The system is unsure if it wants such a user...

I scowled but focused on Ichigo. I thought hard and clear.

Observe!

Ichigo Kurosaki

Human(Quincy/FullBringer)

Age 15

Yup, sounded about right. Until Rukia and Urahara kicked in, Ichigo's Shinigami and Hollow side would be pretty damn buried. I noticed it lacked a bio about Ichigo but I chalked that up with the skill being level 1 for now. I looked at Orihime.

Orihime Inoue

Human(Spiritual Infected)

15

Looked pretty on the mark. Ichigo would be leaking his untrained soul powers everywhere. How on earth he didn't attract hordes of hollows every day I could only chalk up to Urahara or Aizen. In the end... it usually ended up being traced back to those two in some way.

Tatsuki Arisawa

Human(Spiritually Infected)

15

I was pre-canon.

Was that good? I don't think it was good but it was better than day one before Aizen invaded I guess. Now I wonder how long until Rukia came and everything ever known is changed.

Because Aizen and Urahara exist.

Oh, something something Quincies and Soul King. I deal with that after I lived to tell the tale.

It was time to go and develop superpowers before a bug hollow eat me by accident. I would choose if I wanted to fringe this all anime and hide in a basement once I wasn't going to be arrested for trespassing and being a creep.

I went the way I came and climbing down was a lot harder. Go figure.

Climbing is now level 3!

"Any reason Climbing is levelling like no tomorrow and Observe didn't even twinge when I was using it?" I grunted.

Skills are levelled by effort. You exert more effort to climb than you did to observe. System would suggest Observing things you have no knowledge of or trying to gather information to build a profile for Observe.

I actually did slide a little in surprise this time.

"That was... actually helpful!" I gasped. The System dinged.

System has no idea what you mean.

Then it was gone.

I grumbled and slid out the bathroom after I pushed the ceiling tile back place. I grimaced at my blackened hands from the dust and web. I did a quick soap and dry before just leaving the school front as casually as I could.

Nothing wrong here... nope. Just a slightly older guy leaving the school.

"Tell me why I shouldn't break your arm and call the police on you?" came a snide voice from the outside of the gate. I turned ever so slowly to see those glinting glasses.

You know? Face on and having his undivided attention? Uryu Ishida was a little intimidating for a highschooler. He glared at me and I caught the dangling cross on his wrist.

I should be wondering how he found me but I'm going to go with... Spirit sensing bullshit or maybe my Observe had a little telltale of power? I wonder why he even came outside to confront me?

The way he slowly put himself between me and the school was kinda telling after a few seconds. He was protecting his classmates.

"I was wondering why the monsters don't come here. I thought I would be safe but I didn't understand anything. It's just a school," I said slowly.

I decided to go with honesty, a bit of misdirection, and oversharing.

Look an idiot, get treated like an idiot and hopefully don't get my arm broken. Uryu's glare narrowed harder. Hopefully, my features would be added to the lost tourist who lost everything angle if I needed to play it.

"You're insane and stalking my classmates," he said coldly and took a step forward.

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration because I really didn't want to have to try and run away from a guy who could anime flash step.

"Please, I don't know what's going on. I got attacked by something that no one could see and I can't stop feeling them. They're not here and I was hoping to figure out why," I explained slowly. I was pretty sure I knew exactly why they didn't hang around here.

A certain pissed of Quincy with an attitude to Shinigami.

Uryu flicked his eyes once around as if looking for something then turned on his heel

"I'm calling the police. Do not come back here. I will know," he warned and walked back inside with his tie fluttering dramatically.

That was as good as offer as I was gonna get. No broken arm and time to run away. I stared at his back.

Observe.

Uryu Ishida

Quincy

15

Observe has levelled up!

The window before me twitched.

Uyru Ishida

Quincy

15

A student at Karakura High.

I took off into the city.

Russel Rivers knew when to cut his losses. Uryu was kinda a dick this early and I had no doubt the police would be called.

The sun was high and the world was open before me.

Quest completed! 1 stat point gained! System is so proud you finished your first quest!

And my survival chance just went up. What more could a guy ask for? My stomach grumbled and a dark cloud approaching promised rain.

Right, basic human needs...

Last edited: Jul 27, 2019

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

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Threadmarks 3: Pebbles and Water

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Jul 30, 2019

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#66

Success was often found in the small things.

For example, the act of having shoes wouldn't seem much until you had to walk all day without them on hard city concrete and tarmac avoiding glass and other less desirable substances.

I turned over the beat-up footwear. One had worn on the heel completely but it was better than what I had (which was nothing). Having them fished out a modern clothes recycle garbage machine near local thrift stores might have been the lowest point in my life so far, but I didn't have much use for pride when I knew the dangers lurking around the corner.

"Observe," I said as I slipped them on. Tight but not painful. They were white once but age had rendered them grey.

Worn Sneakers. Footwear.

It is those given purposes when thought useless that prove their worth the most.

"That was actually pretty deep of you," I mused and the box shifted.

It is ratty shoes. System had to fill the space with something.

"Yeah yeah..." I grumbled and tried a few test walks along the street. Karakura really liked white and narrow straight streets I noticed along my quest to find shoes. Not that the system found that worthy of an actual quest.

The shoes itched but my poor feet finally had a layer of comfort. I shouldn't be so pleased but it felt like I was making progress in some areas.

"First shoes, then godly powers, then a sweet beach house somewhere that people haven't died," I announced happily. A dream was good to have, if unrealistic.

I ended up along the main river that ran like a snake along Karakura's west side. I actually was surprised at how clean it looked, the grassy hills that slid down to stone walkways that were cut up by overhanging bridges ever so often. It was under one of these bridges I took refuge from the warm sun above and the suspicious looks I got from the locals.

A foreign hobo might not stick out in Tokyo but Karakura was not exactly bustling with people.

I had to smile at the underside of the tunnel that was covered in graffiti. Guess under the surface, even the white and clean Karakura had some thugs and free souls lurking about it seemed. I opened my menu with more a desire than any vocalisation. The desire to see my stats more important than any vocal command.

Handy that, I wouldn't have to worry too much about saying the wrong word in combat and getting blindsided by a screen. That would just be a sad way to die.

True name: Russel Rivers

Given name:

Nickname:

Title: The Gamer

Physical: 5

Spiritual: 5

Energy: 5

Mental: 5

Points to spend: 1

Skills:

Danger sense 1: You can sense the danger of a truck travelling into your face within inches!

Gamer Body Max: Allows the body to be adaptable and attain growth.

Gamer Mind Max: Allows visualization of menus and pop-ups! Allows user to see unique Gamer elements in the world!

Climbing lv 2: Allows you to scale foes and environments faster.

Observe lv 2: See information about targets. Right now, the only information the user knows already can be summed up

Quest: None

Right, now that I had some time to accept where I was and what that sort of meant... It was time to take a long hard look at my own being spread before me in flat numbers and basic skills. Things weren't exactly looking great. Climbing Hollows would be handy if they were say Menos and I had to reach those beaks of theirs but that was all I had going for me.

Where were all the skills of my previous life? I wasn't a desert ranger with mad l33t skills on rocket science but I should have had some things carry over.

And what was more pressing was I couldn't see my level or exp bar. As if reading my mind, a new line slid into view under the title of Gamer.

Level 1. No exp had been gained and System is still slowly adjusting User to new existence. Some features are being held back to avoid overload and to give User time to adjust. No one likes having the entire instruction book thrown at them at once.

"Thanks, I think," I gave a nod. At least my System was responsive and answered questions rather than the wall-like system that dropped messages and left.

I pondered the level 1 for a moment.

"Is fighting the only way to gain Exp or are their other paths I can look into?" I decided to ask before I started to mess around with grinding or seeking death with monsters I couldn't see. I stretched my legs out and enjoyed the gurgling of the passing water.

Experience Points may be gained by any means that is considered overcoming an obstacle. Fighting is the fastest but the System is not limited to developing combat skills alone.

"Cooking? Crafting? Exploring?" I prompted.

Reality is what you make of it.

I gave the window an odd look. There was that weird phrase again. Well, the information was good all the same. I looked at my lone stat point.

It was gained from a quest and I was kind of excited because these points were considered a limited resource. Should I spend them or save them? If this was the normal system then banking them was smart because you could actually grind stats with hard work but my stats were different...

All my physical stats had been merged into a single stat, the same for mental stats. Also I had a Spiritual and Energy stat.

Now the System was rewarding stat points as quest rewards...

"What do the Stats represent?" I asked aloud with some hope. It seemed the System was feeling chatty because a simple box opened.

Physical: Power of your physical body.

Mental: Power of your mental faculties.

Spiritual: Your power and control over the spirit and demonic arts.

Energy: Your power and control over the magical and nature arts.

The things you learned by asking the right question...

"Magic and nature arts?" I mused. Bleach had Reapers and Hollows along with agents of hell. Those neatly made up the spirit and demonic arts if I remembered from the show. There was a lot of weird crap in the afterlife. A lot of it made by Mayuri or Urahara because they were sort of mad scientists.

But magical and nature arts had to refer to physical counterparts. I was going to have to stray into sheer guessing territory while I pondered but if the afterlife and reapers were around then there had to be people in the real world besides Fullbringers and Quincies that had weird powers.

Magicians, shamans, druids, sages, and whatever other variants that had been named through history. Living people with power that defied the people's understanding.

Well, back to what I did know that I was able to learn Spirit arts despite being a living being. I hope I didn't have to eject my soul from my body to use them. That would kinda put a damper on the appeal.

My stomach rumbled and I guessed my Gamer's Body didn't give me the ability to wear the same clothes without smelling or to never feel the need to eat.

Ah well, I flexed a hand and said quietly.

"Inventory."

A window blinked into view with neat grid lines that intersect to make neat little boxes. I looked down, picking up the most unassuming pebble around and chucked it at the window. There was a crackle of light and the first box now had a little cartoon image of the pebble.

I cracked a grin as the System gave me a message.

Collect 99 Pebbles and earn a title!

"Surely you can't be serious," I had to ask.

The response made my sort of love my power.

I am serious and don't call me Shirly.

I casually browsed the supermarket. Having the ability to see Japanese words shifted as I approached them into English was both amazingly cool and distracting.

Of course, the stiff face cashier was watching me like a hawk in case I did a grab and run with his knock-off noodle brands. The man had a job after all and his security camera was trained on me.

Sadly, as I began to pick up cereal boxes and other things like bottles of water. I made a show looking uninterested and putting them back onto the shelves. Out of sight of the cashier who was defending his shop like a knight defending a maiden' virtue I slipped these items into my inventory that had the lovely ability to phase through physical objects and be near the back.

I must have had enough snack bars and water to last me a few days.

Acting has been gained by pretending to shop! Acting allows you to be seen as doing something believable. Does not cover lies you try to convey unless you act in character. Mental Skill.

Stealing has been gained by... stealing. Allows you to take items with increasing ease if the item does not belong to you. The effects are subtle at first. Physical skill.

I left with my underdressed condition doing me a favour for once. I could hardly hide food and bottles of water in a shirt, shorts and ratty shoes after all.

Around the corner, I took a deep drink of lukewarm water as I pulled it from empty air.

It was delicious.

If I had a chance I would need to get some fresh clothes and such. But while I had little guilt about doing what I had to survive, I wasn't going to turn into a cat burglar overnight. Not unless I had something besides the urge to do something stupid to be gained from it.

I whistled slightly and read my new skills. Combined with what I had... I really did look like I was a thief. Climbing... observing... stealing.

I just needed treasure sense I would be ready to steal Aizen's Zanpakuto.

I paused in the middle of the quiet street and looked down at the unassuming rock I just kicked by accident.

I licked my lips.

"Pebble number 2... welcome to the family," I said and then it occurred to me that some thief and ninja classes had rock-throwing skills to distract or do small damage. I hoped I didn't actually end up making my joking into a reality.

The issue was... I was actually thinking of seeing if I could get stealth to ambush foes in the future. Ah well, I could learn some magic and get a bow. The stealth magic archer was a cliche for a reason.

I reached the river and reclaimed my spot.

It would get cold at night but I just have to think of something until then. For now, I did my first ever sit-ups and push-ups.

I'll spare you the details but... it was not pretty.

It was ten minutes later, gasping and feeling like my shaking arms would just give when it happened.

You have unlocked: Physical Exercise! A series of movements and training to enhance the body. Every 5 levels increases the Physical stat by 1! Has various effects on health and recovery. Physical skill.

It looked like sheer working out and training would unlock these sort of 'Training' skills instead of just giving me stats. I wasn't complaining. The skill had potential bonuses on top of the stats. It was very possible that other physical skills might also reward stat points.

I laid there, sweating and struggling to move.

It was then, laying flat on the ground, I saw it.

A pebble about ten feet away. Perfectly smooth and perfect. I felt my will harden and I gritted my teeth as I stood with a wobble before lurching forward with determination. My body already numbing exhaustion and pain.

It had to be... mine!

Last edited: Jul 30, 2019

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

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Threadmarks 4: A Medical Emergency

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Amicus

Aug 3, 2019

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#112

Not any average pebble would do.

I picked up jagged ones, flat ones, chipped ones, small ones, large ones, scuffed ones, ones fetched from the river and covered in bottom-feeding slime and algae...

The System declared all of them... subpar. They didn't count to my title. No, it seemed only the most regal and perfect of pebbles would be counted. Looking for pebbles might become a work in madness. Well, I supposed it gave me something to do besides beat myself up over this Physical Exercise skill.

Which was only at level 3 despite my huffing and puffing for the last 45 minutes. Sit-ups and push-ups didn't seem to gain me enough points in the skill. I frowned as I sipped more of the water from the stolen bottle. I rested my hot back against the cool stone of the underbridge. Grateful no one saw me 'exercising'

"Want to give me some tips?" I asked aloud in vain hope. I was actually surprised to see an answer appear. The blue box hazy and shimmering as if to reflect how hot it was.

Repetition of the same activity might return declining results for the same level or higher. System suggests jogging or lifting weights. Variety is the spice of life. Yours is current flour flavour. Plain.

I would take the sarcasm and barbs for a decent answer. I was actually beginning to think the sarcasm was growing on me. It was just words and couldn't hurt me much. Yet. I paced under the bridge and knew the day would be getting its hottest and then the sun would fade. The gurgling river like a natural clock. Ticking with the progress as it moved downstream.

Day to night. Warm to cold. Safe to unsafe.

If a Hollow didn't accidentally step on me, a mugger might see an easy target. I doubt he'd find my fleeting pebble collection impressive.

I needed to make short term goals. I was pretty sure... almost certain that my small actions wouldn't cause Aizen's plan on pushing a Hollow to Ichigo and Rukia to help him too off course by talking to Uryu Ishida for a minute but...

I should expect things to utterly change because I did so. If I heard about the Kurosaki Clinic being wrecked overnight... I knew Canon had taken off. If not, I just had to sort walk past Ichigo near his home or wait for Uryu to...

Release a storm of Hollows on the city.

I closed my eyes in a little pain, rubbing my forehead at the knowledge.

That kid was... a total asshole in the most basic sense right now. Trying to force a pissing fight with Ichigo by inviting tons of monsters that ate people. I would dab smack in the middle of it. If I stayed that was.

Thing was, Aizen wasn't a god planner with 1000 steps planned out. The man was adaptive and used things others didn't expect. Well, if one didn't add Urahara to the mix. Both of them were just a little too mad for me. If I made a huge scene and started spouting warnings of a dire future or even dared to drop the name 'Soul King' near a Reaper or Quincy?

I would be taken to a dark place and never seen again. I wasn't sure if it was any better than Captain Mayuri got me over the polite but scary Aizen.

So, hanging back to see if I wanted to be near this mess was wise. I should have some time to think to myself before I get roped into the super scary shit by force. For all I knew?

I was an Aizen plot.

Then staying was anticipated and I had some grand destiny ahead. Yipee.

I was in a fictional universe. I too could be fictional.

A loop and arrogance of a person thinking everything was fictional but themselves. I could feel my fingers shaking and I knew this was the sort of thing Gamer's Mind would step in and handle. Prevent me from having to deal with it.

But I knew I could be strong enough to handle it. I stopped counted to ten. I was working myself into a frenzy of what-ifs and maybes. It was going to drive me mad.

I had only the power to do what I could. I couldn't go to the afterlife and tangle with Aizen. I couldn't see if the Soul King was watching me. I couldn't do anything but what my own two hands were capable of and that...

That was all that mattered.

So what could I do?

Get what every mad scientist, escaped criminals, and dastardly villain had in this world.

A base. Every cool person had a base.

My handy little map function was neat. It gave me areas I had been to a name and even tracked my current location. I had choices if I remembered my shows right. One was the Vizard's hideout but that was temp at best if they didn't already hangout there until they Urahara goes to wake them up.

There were several warehouses like areas. An old abandoned train station.

Karakura High was out because I was sure Uryu would actually shoot me with an arrow if I went back. I wasn't touching Urahara with a ten-foot pole until I had some semblance of a safe haven outside his control. The man was a good person in terms of wanting to save the world and stop Aizen.

His methods?

Well, there was a reason he and Mayuri clicked. Their inability to do an experiment that didn't threaten or endanger lives being one of them. I'm sure he mellowed out over the years but Hollowfying Ichigo to hurry the process, while needed, didn't seem to bother the guy in the slightest.

So, I'd give the man a wide berth. I hate to think what he might do if he saw my crazy levelling potential. Or what he might make me do to 'help' Ichigo when the time came.

I tried to think of another potential hideout and my mind came up blank. Karakura always had a billion places shown once in the early episodes that weren't really shown in relation to anything. The Bount mansion (that was another no go zone). Random parks and location of the cemetery, the dozens of parks, that weird abandoned hospital that Don Kan-

Oh.

That had potential!

I felt the thought and idea become solid as I parsed it out. The place was some time before Canon so the Demi-Hollow would be inactive... Don Kanoji would be some time and Reapers couldn't sense Earth-Bound spirits so they wouldn't come snooping!

There was also no super person living there or planning too.

It was off-grid and kind of perfect!

Kind of. If one ignored the raging spirit that would turn into a man-eating monster soon. But what place didn't have a few defects? I just needed supplies, an idea to handle the coming monster, vanish when the Don appeared... and move back in once the area went quiet.

If was the perfect plan and it was going to go wrong in so many ways. I rubbed at my itchy growing stubble and knew I would need clothes, some idea about running water, and camping set for food and warmth. It couldn't hurt to look into maybe figuring out a way to appease angry spirits and see if I could divert a Hollowing.

But first... before anything else. I opened my status. I was happy that I didn't need to hand wave in public to navigate this thing.

True name: Russel Rivers

Given name:

Nickname:

Title: The Gamer

Level 1: 0/100

Physical: 5

Spiritual: 5

Energy: 5

Mental: 5

Points: 1

Skills:

Danger sense 1: You can sense the danger of a truck travelling into your face within inches!

Gamer Body Max: Allows the body to be adaptable and attain growth.

Gamer Mind Max: Allows visualization of menus and pop-ups! Allows user to see unique Gamer elements in the world!

Climbing Lv 3: Allows you to scale the environment and foes with ease.

Observe lv 2: See information about targets. Right now, only information the user knows already can be summed up

Acting lv 1: Acting allows you to be seen as doing something believable. Do not cover lies you try to convey unless you act in character. Mental Skill.

Stealing lv 1. Allows you to take items with increasing ease if the item does not belong to you. The effects are subtle at first. Physical skill.

Physical Exercise lv 3: A series of movements and training to enhance the body. Every 5 levels increases the Physical stat by 1! Has various effects on health and recovery.

Quest: Horror Movie Extra: Going into the clearly haunted hospital like a white teen girl in a horror movie and hope you don't die! Reward: 100 EXP. 1 Stat point. A place of refuge!

Click to expand...I gave the quest a long dry look before I put my point into Spiritual, bring it up to a solid 6!

I had no idea what it might give me but I'm hoping an edge if I need to dodge chairs and things poltergeist style. It be easier to do so if I could see the angry spirit. I doubt a single point would do much but hoarding points in Karakura town?

Yeah, screw that.

I moved on and walked into the refreshingly warm sun. I was humming to myself when I felt my foot nudge something. I looked down just in time to see the perfect shaped pebble plop into the river next to me.

I stared for a long time at the water.

I grumbled as I walked out of an outdoors style of shop that sold everything from knives to tents. I sadly couldn't get the knives or axes as they were logically behind the counter to prevent maniacs coming in and getting access to them.

Like me.

But I did muse about taking my time to pick up thermal clothes, a basic torch and lamp, and even a hotplate.

I say picked up. I should really admit I stole them.

Stealing is now level 3!

Acting is level 2!

I shook my still damp arm as I left the store. I was still annoyed I had given into the urge to pluck the damn stone from the bottom of the cold water but in the end...

I really wanted that title.

I closed my notifications with a simple will of the mind. My acting no doubt going up slower because I was doing a repeat performance of a bored customer. I would have to maybe mix it up and ask questions or maybe try for the agitated or lost act next.

Acting seemed useless but the ability to maybe appear as unimportant might let me be ignored by the plot? One could hope.

Now, I had some need for other things but the stealing thing would actually start to seriously bum me out if I went on a streak. I could get fresh clothes and hygiene material tomorrow. I wanted to get a headstart on finding that hospital before dark. The street was busy and people hurried past, eager to get back or away from work

I tried using my map but without myself being there or having directions, it was unhelpful for a System tool. I spend my time using Observe as I tried to find the best person or place to get directions to a spooky haunted place.

The info Observe game was nothing more than 'Man', 'Tree', 'Bench', and so on. I felt it was getting close to level 3 but that might have been more hope than not. With daylight burning, I had little else to go on but to ask a bored cab driver taking a smoke break near a park. He watched me approach with an unworried expression.

I guessed I didn't make a scary sight yet.

"I know whatcha mean. That old place shut down about 15 years ago," he said as if saying something distasteful. He eyed me up and down.

"You gonna vandalise it? Going to prove you got guts?" he asked with a slight sneer. I shook my head.

"Nothing like that. I just wanted to know what happened to it and where it is. It feels kinda forgotten," I said, being honest to the best of my ability. The man shook his head.

"Town's better for it, trust me. You come here and you hear about how sad it is and waste but let me tell you, from a local to a stranger. No bad feelings towards you but don't go thinking that place needs a pity. It should be torn down and removed. I had people go in there and not come out. Owner's son took it over and ran it into the ground. Took the money for doing nothing. Staff got underpaid, supplies missing... people died. The son died in there as he got ill. His own greed meant his own healthcare couldn't save him. Karakura General was and always is a better choice," the man flicked his cigarette away.

"Go for yourself. Even now, the place reeks of bad vibes," he said and reached into his cab, getting a map of the town. He stretched it over his trunk and pointed to a thickly forested area with a road leading to it.

"Not even marked anymore. But you'll find it there," the man tipped his cap down and gave me another long look.

"Go home and enjoy a nice meal. A better way to spend your time," he insisted and I could only nod in silence before he drove off to pick up his next fare. I wish I could go home.

But that road is closed and the only ones open to me with no money was...

I blinked.

"I could make money in an ID or some Dungeon I could crea-" I began and the System cut me off before I even finished.

Gaia is not a supported power base in this dimension. IDs cannot exist due to the immense strain and power drain with her support, let alone create one with functional loot. System would suggest making realistic fake money would be easier and faster in the time frame.

I wanted to shake the screen.

"So I don't have any dungeons or easy grind spots?" I demanded. I oddly got no answer-back but decided I could no more make the System answer me than make Aizen not carry out his plan in one form or another.

I sighed and a map opened up showing a blue line for me to take. It showed the shortest path to my goal of the abandoned hospital. I took off jogging, hoping to distract myself from the harsh limits my Gamer powerset seemed to come with.

I mean, sure, there was literally a world of hollow monsters to kill but... that didn't seem as cool as vanishing for a day and coming back stronger than even Ichigo's speed might struggle with. Ah well, it was better than 'you get no powers, now have fun' that I could have had.

I felt a noise like skittering stone and saw another perfect pebble vanish down a storm drain.

"You're doing this somehow, aren't you?" I said through gritted teeth.

System has no hand in User's bad luck. Does the User see a luck stat? Manipulating probability so everything in the world around you benefits you as such a stat rises to truly unreasonable levels would be more power-draining than creating mobile dungeons created at the drop of a hat. User must think about these things.

"I don't like you."

System cherishes these moments.

"Uh... wanna explain that?" I pointed, wide-eyed at the sealed entrance of the hospital before me. The rundown building felt cold and I did feel like something might... just might... be on the edge of my senses. The window howled a little too much like an animal for my comfort. I wondered if my slightly improved Spiritual Stat was at work?

I ignored all after a moment as I stared at the wide shimmering black and red portal that sat just inside the entrance of the building.

User has discovered a Malice Zone! User can now celebrate! A Malice Zone is a one-time instance where all built up negative energy is given form and warp the inside of the building to create a Dungeon like area. The entrance is only visible to the User and party. The portal will use Spiritual and Nature energy to create a bubble space. Fight to your heart's content and win! Remove the Malice and absorb it to gain EXP! Malice hastens Hollowfication and allows other dark forces to nest. Please try not to die User!

Malice Zone: Medical Madness (Rank G)

I looked at my frying pan and a can of beans with longing as they rested in my hand.

"I think I need a weapon..."

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 5: Beating Wood

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Stewart92

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 4, 2019

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#129

"So, while I try and think of the pros and cons of throwing myself into a Dungeon with no skills or combat experience, can you give me a little background on these things? I thought Dungeons were hard to sustain?" I asked as I retreated back towards the edge of the woods. The shadows of the trees shifting as the orange light of dusk set behind me.

Rushing in with no plan and no general ability to fight back was... well, not my first idea of a good time.

System lacks power to correct and maintain Dungeons with User as a power source. However, theze zones of Malice had been sitting for years, infusing the local area. It is far easier to manipulate the Malice into a useable zone that sits in the realm between worlds. The Malice will be caught between trying to turn into a Hollow, move on, and trying to disperse back into nature. Since the Malice itself isn't a person but merely countless echoes of human suffering... it can do none of those things. It creates a tangled knot in reality which can be interacted with.

I frowned at it.

"Is this going to cause problems for people If I don't get to them fast enough?" I pressed, the last thing I wanted was to be a thing that drew attention and be known as the guy that 'let monsters out of their box'. I would just leave Karakura now before I drew that attention. The box before me shimmered.

No. The System is merely designed to let you create and enter these zones but the portal won't activate until you enter them. It is important that you are ready before entering as escaping is not as easy. The System would highly prefer it if the User... took a few hours to get a handle on a weapon or develop a useable skill.

Was that... concern?

Also look down.

I blinked and did so. I stared at the pebble I nearly kicked into the underbrush.

The System finds your annoyance amusing and enjoys distracting you from the terrible situation you are in. System is not here to be your enemy.

I gave the screen a long look before I nodded.

"Thank you," I said quietly and the screen blinked.

Please don't die, User.

"Can you call me Russ? User sounds impersonal for two beings going to spend a lot of time together.

Please do not die... Russ.

The box vanished and I was left alone in the fading sunlight with a slight feeling of warmth in my chest. I sort had an imaginary friend if nothing else. I mean, it was sad but I would take it over being by myself. I picked up my new pebble and placed inside my Inventory.

I looked around and had to decide what the plan was. I needed to arm myself and that was going to be interesting due to the fact I needed to semi-settle on a single weapon as best as I could to get the most out of my power this early.

So, I could rush back and maybe try and be super weird customer, stealing a few bats or hammers but the time I had to get back in town proper would me alone at night. I knew Hollows were active at whatever time but...

Night always seemed worse in the show.

Then there was issue of upkeep. I could use a bat but if it got damaged by whatever was inside then I would down a bat and have to use my fists. Unarmed was an option but I didn't like my chances until I could get a feel for my foes.

Besides, to my fists and any weapon? Hollows were known to shoot fire, spit acid, supersonic scream, tongue wiggle exploding leeches, use little girls to lure me to my death, and in general... I couldn't yet see them.

So if the Malice Zone held Hollows, I had to either hope I got converted to Spirit form or hope I got Spirit skills pretty damn fast. So I needed non-valuable, easy to replace weapons that I could lose and not want to cry. I looked around and saw a dilapted sign for the 'Quiet Mesa Hospital'. I walked over and looked at the lone rusty rod holding the sign up.

"Observe."

Rusty thin pipe. Grade G-1

A thing that might give you tetanus but might be worth a few wacks.

Grade? I blinked at that before doing my best to yank the pole out. It was stuck with some serious grip but I grunted and pulled it out. It stumbled back before I regained my footing. I held the pole, covered in one end with dirt and torn grass. I gave it a swing and it didn't feel too bad. It was longer than I thought.

Less like a club and more like a short spear with the spiked point at the end.

Skill gained from making use of leftover material as usable equipment! Salvage Lv 1 gained!

Salvage Lv 1: Increase the odds that you can find a usable item from destroyed equipment, foes, and environment in better condition. Physical skill.

I could see it now. Clubbing hollows with steel pipes, wrenches, and broken mops I found in a pinch. I snorted and walked back to the forested area for privacy. The crinkling of leaves and the mourning moan of the wind were my company tonight it seemed.

I eyed a tree and shrugged.

I swung and hit the tree. The pole bounces and the vibration shook right up my arm, nearly making me drop the weapon. I shook my hand and tried for a more glancing blow at the tip than a full whack. I sent a splinter or two flying which oddly gave me motivation to try sharp jabs and a dramatic flourish and nearly smacking myself on the nose.

I held back a small chuckle at the near miss. I keep at the tree, my mind wandering as I tried to get used to the sensations of actually hitting things. The steel rod would be like a staff if I guessed right.

The thick branches around me had potential for wooden versions of easily taping one end into a spear. The earliest weapon of man had a lot of uses and was rather easy to supply myself up with. Without the Gamer Power, they would do me a fat load of good but hopefully soon I could-

I stopped as I was given a notification.

Combat Rod proficiency gained!

Combat Rod Proficiency Lv 1: Rods offer the ability to crack skulls. Use this ability with great relish. Increases skill with this weapon and every 10 levels grants 2 Physical stat.

I grinned, the sheer pleasure of seeing visible growth before my very eyes was making me want to be wood all night! I gave it another few smacks of my rod and found there was... tiny little things like the grip of my thumb and maybe a better twist to my back I could do to get more out of my swings.

It wasn't an information dump or magical form correction that I suspected. It was like I could understand the weapon in a slightly better light. Knowing how the wide swings and quick jabs would let me more dangerous to approach than myself rushing at a foe.

I gave a full impact swing and the tree actually shook leaves falling as they were dislodged.

Active Skill gained! Power Swing!

Power Swing Lv 1: Use a blunt weapon with your energy to create a strong attack! Cost 2 Energy! Energy skill.

Energy bar unlocked!

Current ENE: 25 (5x Energy Stat)

I had... a damn supernatural ability now. Sure it was 'hit harder' but in most fights... that was the key to winning! Without a foe to damage. The difference between normal attacks and my Power Swings would be hard to gauge but the chunk torn of the tree bark gave me hope that it was quite significant.

I should do a little bit more training but I already kinda saw a flaw in my current build. I had no range. If I ran into anything that was faster and had range? I would need to rely on it being stupid and I didn't like counting on potential enemies do work in my favour.

I need range and I decided to brainstorm while I continued to beat the crap out of this poor tree.

Forgive me, oh tree. Your pain could save the world, or at least, my life!

I sat down, the moon above barely more than a wicked smiling crescent. I felt sweat and tree bark covering my body as I finally just took a moment to relax. I patted the fallen tree next to me.

Combat Rod Proficiency Lv 5!

Physical Exercise lv 5! You gain 1 Physical stat from the skill!

Hard work has given you 2 Physical Stats!

I enjoyed my solid 8 physical stats. I would enjoy it alot more if I had a bse to compare it too but I was pretty sure the fact I could now hit falling leaves which general good accuracy without hitting myself showed just how far four levels could go.

I was a bit worried at how slow my Stat was levelling on its own but with the general skills and levelling up rewards, along with quest rewards... stats weren't in short supply so I should be happy with the freebies if I got them.

I looked my other stats over. I knew now that Energy was normal magic arts along with what I was thinking was every martial art and potential living energy combined. Chi, Chakra, Ki, and so on.

So the fact I had five in energy meant I should have access to the arts as well as Spiritual arts. The Mental stat was iffy but maybe Psychic abilities along with general mental defences? So many questions and the System seemed to be napping as she hadn't replied to me.

I needed to close my range weakness, or make it as small as possible. Range weapons all carried the same issue of ammunition or throwing my weapons. Not really viable for a long term fight.

But I had these magical stats so I should be able to do something, right?

"Fireball!" I commanded, trying to see if I could feel anything magic happen. Nothing happened.

"Pyre!"

"Flame on!"

"HOT ANGRY ENERGY!"

I wiggled my finger before shaking my rod furiously in the dark forest in frustration. I was glad for my new thermal clothes. The area was warm in general but a brisk wind blew through the trees and the quietness made my skin crawl.

I closed my eyes. Magic wasn't as easy as just wanting it. So I tried to imagine fire... the crackling of wood breaking under its might... the waves of scorching air hitting my face... the last memories of my home on fire as the smoke and heat consumed me.

"Ignite!" I ordered.

A flash of light made me snap my eyes open in hope. I nearly shrieked and caused a forest fire as I began to chuck my rod away as it was now covered completely in a wreath of fire.

By infusing your experience of fire into your weapon, you have created the 'Flamebrand' skill!

Flamebrand Lv 1: Coat hand held weapon in a weak burst of fire, doing extra elemental damage on impact! Cost 3 Energy and sustain costs 1 Energy every 10 seconds. Energy skill.

I stared as the fire moved like a ghostly aura over my weapon, the heat pleasant but as I prodded a leaf on the ground, it blackened and shrivelled up over a few seconds.

Then I got a second notification.

Fire Affinity gained!

Fire Affinity Lv 1: Increase control and mastery over fire based magic and energy skills. Every 5 levels increases Energy by 1!

I tried flicking the rod or doing my impression of Ichigo's beam blade. Swing it overhead with both hands.

The fire stubbornly clinged to the rod. I grunted and found shutting the skill of was already easily known to me. I guessed the System must have made sure I knew how to turn these things off. It felt like sucking warm tea back in through my hand and my body glowing warm before returning to normal.

Fire Mana?

Interesting but even with my new affinity and experience...

I couldn't make a fireball.

"Must be the low Energy stat. If I got it higher I bet manipulating things would be a lot easier," I mused. I paused and thought I saw another perfect pebble, interrupting my thoughts. I bent down and picked it up.

I scowled as I saw it was flat on the bottom. I channeled my frustrations into the stone and threw it. I felt a tug on my energy and the rock glowed like a little ball of blue and smashed into a tree, taking a bit of bark off.

"Excuse me?" I said dumbly.

Skill created! Inferior Pebble Discard!

Inferior Pebble Discard Lv 1: Throw these worthless rocks at foes to show your love for only the purest of pebbles! Cost 1 Energy. Energy based.

I stared at the screen then closed my eyes to count to ten.

I just weaponized my collection quest.

That can't be good for the universe.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 6: Sickly Encounter

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Stewart92

Stewart92

Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 5, 2019

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#149

Pebbles were not exactly my anti-air weapon of choice but I had to admit at their potential pros. There were hundreds of them within reach. Which meant I could do a massive amount of throwing practise without the energy to see if I could get my aim to hit something more than a barn bigger than Ichigo's growth rate.

Small Projectile Throwing skill gained!

Small Projectile Throwing Lv 3: Throw small projectiles with increasing damage and accuracy. Physical skill.

I could not repeat how weird but awesome it was to see your hands literally begin to correct themselves as the subtle nudging of 'throwing wildly' became 'proper flicking of hand and arm muscles tensing combined proper body twists'. Freaky but I could not repeat the sheer bliss it brought me.

I watched as the dangling leaf I was aiming for was torn off its branch with an unpowered pebble strike. The pebble skittering down the tree and coming to rest amongst dozen of its rocky siblings. A small pile showing my results.

I did try a few times with Energy, the Discard skill gave the pebbles a rather speedy result,

which I discovered had a regen of the stat itself per minute. So I got 5 Energy back every minute. It was a pretty good deal but unless I found an energy regen technique or skill, my max Energy would rapidly outpace my regen.

That was a future Russ' issue when I had deadly spells and massive abilities. I had flaming sticks and hurty pebbles...

I was pretty sure my energy would be just fine.

The truly fun thing I learned was that I could use my new Flamebrand spell on the pebbles before using Discard on them, launching tiny fire rocks at foes. I could already combo and I was just messing about! I turned as another cold breeze fluttered through the woods and whistled into the many broken windows of the hospital before me.

Was I being stupid rushing into this zone? The Malice wouldn't be an issue for a long time if left naturally... I mean, it only got worse because a random idiot, with a good heart, jabbed a cane in a demi-Hollow's hole.

I could find another place, travel the night, and come back stronger.

But while it was smart to be prepared and plan... I didn't know what I was planning for or what 'G-ranked Malice Zone' was like. I could spend days convincing myself that I needed strength and get locked into a mindset of never being enough.

I needed to know what my System considered the lowest of dangers. Well, I hoped it was the lowest.

"System? This isn't reversed normal rankings, right? G isn't like an S rank or top tier, right?" I asked a little nervously.

G-1 is the lowest rank of System detectable strength. Ranks for equipment, foes, allies, and others go from G-SSS. Each rank having ten inner ranks to give a more accurate assessment of the ranking. Malice Zone before you is ranked G-2.

So, not the weakest but basically the next best thing.

I turned to my rod and used Observe on it.

Trusty Rusty Steel Pole: Weapon/Material. G-1

A steel pole that has been repurposed to bash heads in.

Observe has levelled up to 3!

I smiled at the good timing.

I cast it again on my weapon.

Trusty Rusty Rod of Russ: Weapon(Rod)/Material(alloy) G-1

A Steel Pole that has been stared at a lot.

"You can joke but I always liked flavour text on my equipment," I teased and the screen vanished with a slight pop. Leaving me with the building before me.

"Observe."

Quiet Mesa Hospital: A hospital run down by greed and incompetence. It is in need of high repair and is most likely haunted. Contains a Malice Zone.

Nothing new there but it was good to always check I supposed.

I walked slowly to the main door and watched the swirling black portal tinged with red flashes. It looked like a tiny contained storm just waiting to suck me in. I pushed the metal door that had a very rusty old chain that just fell to pieces at the slightest pressure. The door swung open creepily. I saw that I had space to press myself against the wall to get passed without touching the portal.

But that would defeat my goals now, wouldn't it?

I inhaled, feeling a slight tremble move through my body before I reached out and poked the portal. I watched as it bounced like jello. The menacing appearance lost as it wiggled and jiggled in obvious distress.

"That is adorable!" I announced and poked it again. A little squirming noise echoed out and the System appeared at my side.

Please do not poke and upset the spatial disturbance to a deadly battlefield!

"It's alive?" I asked with raised eyebrows. The System almost sighed.

System uses the layers of Magical, Nature, Spiritual, and Demonic energy between all worlds to form doorways. The Energy is not alive but it is sentient as it uses basic programming to operate within the field of System's power. Therefore it is highly easy to disturb the energy with certain actions.

"By poking it?"

Ticking it. Do not do that.

I pursed my lips again before I poked the hell portal. It jiggled again and this time it didn't let go of my finger.

Normally this would be almost pleasant but I think you deserve this.

I opened my mouth to ask what she meant before the portal swallowed me up and I felt like a million fingers tickled my entire body. I was in so much laughter I was in pain by the time the portal spat me out on the other end.

I glared up at the portal which closed itself to a tiny peephole to protect itself from more poking.

"Okay, fair is fair. Don't poke the portal," I agreed before seeing the glass set into the door showed pure black. The world outside the hospital was now... gone. I went and pushed the door open to stare right down a sea of black that was waiting for me to take a step outside the somehow floating building.

"Hello?" I called and my voice echoed out to the darkness and I thought I saw something shift in the distance. Something terrible and my memory of the next few minutes felt... vague as I woke up with my body pushing against the door, holding it shut against the dark.

My throat felt sore as if I might have been screaming or crying. I saw a waiting box.

Mental Strain Debuff removed.

"Okay, Malice Zone makes sense. Stay in the zone. Do not leave the zone," I croaked and the portal peeked down at my with a squeak.

"No...No! I'll stay," I objected, deciding to take the noise as concern. The portal opened itself to show the way out if I changed my mind and I actually softly hugged the thing.

"Thank you. I won't poke you anymore," I mumbled. It felt warm and safe in this dark place. I turned my attention to the hospital within and saw a thin white line that created a shimmering wall of light. I watched a tiny blob of shadow bounce off it, like motes of dust on a window.

I touched the barrier and felt no resistance.

"Some kinda barrier?" I mused and Observed it.

Zone Line: Contains any lurking threats and created a small safe zone near the portal.

I'd take a safe zone. Safe zones were nice.

I took a step on the dark side and looked around. The hospital had clearly been remodelled and repaired somewhat. The bad news was that it looked like nothing human had done the work and something smelled rotten.

The blobs of darkness bounced off me and did nothing of note. I was glad because of the sheer amount of the things was overwhelming. I took a few steps forward and looked at the reception desk which had been torn up and odd hardened grey slime-filled into the cracks to make a stone-like material that flowed and covered the surrounding walls.

The more I looked, the more I saw where similar material had been used to fill the damaged areas. I frowned as I didn't see the hordes of foes I was expecting. It was kind of... quiet.

That was a little more freaky than I was expecting.

I took the left hall which some of the signs read 'Brain Hall' and 'Heart Disposal' chambers. The signs broken in half and glued together at random to make new words. The glue more of that same cement material.

I froze as at an intersecting hallway ahead, something finally appeared. I was expecting... maybe a zombie or a rat or even maybe a Hollow. What I got was a giant floating ball of purple liquid in a sac with tiny tentacles as if floated and bounced off walls with no sense of direction.

"Observe," I muttered.

Dying Virus: Monster. G-1

A ball of sickly fluid that has been rejected by every decent immune system around.

No health, no attack information, not even a weakness. The only good news was that it was considered the weakest thing the System would bother to notice.

It didn't really do anything until it was about 20 feet away from me. Its wiggly arms seemed to scent something, for lack of a better word, and drift towards me.

At a rate I might die of old age before it reached me.

I took out a pebble from my inventory and just tried to throw it with decent strength. I didn't get a damage number or a firm calculation of my foes defence but...

The Pebble popped the virus and it splashed to the ground in a sickly smelling puddle that hissed slightly.

Dying Virus defeated! 1 EXP gained! Defeated number 1! Defeat ten for more information about this foe!

Titled gained! Pebble Maniac: Defeat a foe with a pebble!

Pebble Maniac: All pebble weapons and skills do 1 more damage! Able to spot Pebbles easier.

I stared at my first kill.

"Giant demon germs in a hospital. I guess it makes sense but I don't think I want it to," I mumbled. I was interrupted from my numb staring as three more sickly viruses floated around the corner.

"Think of them as... bags of exp," I mused and used my Discard Pebble skill on the first one. The pebble, imperfect and lumpy, took on a grey sheen and when I flicked it, it shot through the first one and passed through a second.

Another 2 EXP and no loot. Their deflating bodies and the unbothered slow remaining one made my confidence rise a little. I gave the next one a light tap and the virus popped over my steel pipe.

The liquid inside smelled putrid but wasn't hot enough or acidic enough to do any damage to my weapon. I ignited the weapon in flame to purify it from any lingering contiguous or ill effects. I didn't want the demonic cold from the realm of darkness. I had a feeling chicken soup might not cut it to make me feel better.

The orange light revealed the hospital was weirder than I thought.

The walls were uneven as if the building as sagging under the weight but also as if they were made of wax and not proper stone. I was quite happy to have a torch on demand but the sights it was showing me unsettled me.

The floor had large dark rust stains that seemed to move when I looked away for a second and they made shapes that... I didn't want to think too deeply about. I peered down the hallway where the viruses had floated from and saw several open doors and flickering lights. The lights flickered which caused those stains to move with each flash of darkness.

I looked the other way.

Stairs going up and down with a boring humming light that didn't even blink. The choice was tough. I prodded a rusty stain in case it was some trap and it just flaked into disturbing snow and dust.

To be honest, I had no idea what my goal was and-

I felt the oddest sensation as if something was right above me. The intent of death coming for me made me throw myself forward.

Danger sense has gained a level!

My limited Spider Senses had just saved me from a slurping purple blob of a dozen viruses glued together in a writhing mass that dropped down from the ceiling above. It moved and it was slug-like in its movement. I did a quick ceiling check and saw no other potential blobs.

"Observe!" I hissed, my knees aching at my bad roll.

Virus Pile: Monster. G-2

A series of nearly dead viruses that came together to give up hope of individual growth for survival.

This thing was going to die. Not clever plan or experimenting. I was not dying to a mosh pit of crap viruses.

I took a pebble.

"Flamebrand! Discard!" I said in quick order. The pebble became a little rock of flaming stone and then the fire turned a steely grey as Discard infused its power. I took aim and threw it right at the centre where the mass looked darkest. My aim was a little off as I failed to take account of a moving target, even one as slow as this thing.

The stone buried into the side and the flaming rock twisted as it came to a stop and the whole jelly... erupted. The thing burned, making no noise but writhing in desperation to fend off the fire.

Burn Status inflicted!

Then the thing began to bubble furiously. I ran down the hall and was just far enough to see the thing explode all over the hallway in flaming globules of grey fiery virus mass. Parts of the hallway smouldered and the putrid purple liquid ignited and spread before the fuel was quickly used up.

Throwing Proficiency levelled up!

Fire Affinity levelled up!

3 Exp gained!

Virus Pile major weakness discovered! Added to Observe Profile for future reference.

I eyed the sheer destructure that a little fire had done.

"I think that's a bit more than 'major'. That was more like 'certain death'," I argued but I saw the Virus Pile's remains dry quickly and become one of those rust stains. Neat, I was surrounded by dead-virus blobs.

Which meant something was feeding on them which wasn't hard to see. These viruses and mass piles of them felt like the bottom of the food chain here. First foe and coming in masses? It had to mean they had to have a reason to clump together and usually that was a threat.

I turned to my hallway of flickering death flags and my boring staircase. I had little doubt I'd meet this predator soon. I walked down the hallway, holding my flaming pipe ahead like a burning tool of justice.

The darkness seemed to be a little surprised I walked into it and nothing happened for a few seconds until something ahead crashed into a shut door and it rattled. I tilted my head, seeing the side rooms were empty of foes.

The door cracked and when the monster burst through, a series of Virus Piles... my flaming pebbles were already flying to them.

The chain reaction?

17 EXP gained. Dying Virus entry updated!

It was a wall of flaming cleansing that I was all too happy to enjoy.

"Remember to wash your hands more or you might cause superbugs in the dimensional walls," I made a note to myself.

Monster entry: Dying Virus

An echo of the suffering and sickly that suffer from moments of discomfort and slight pain. They were repelled with ease and rising medical care. The memories of illness have seeped into the walls and given rise to these sad beings. Weak to fire. Weak to physical attacks. Weak to existence. Worth 1 EXP

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

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Aug 6, 2019

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I raided a few of the rooms, watching carefully at the ceiling for any more waiting Virus Piles. I did not want to experience what of those falling on would be like. The ceiling had a fair bit of rust stains which made me nervous. Pushing on, I raided the drawers and cupboards but found nothing but drifting motes of darkness. It was the area had the surface of a hospital but forgot to actually fill it with more than surface details.

The hope of raiding morphine and medical supplies was becoming a little dashed. I tried not to veer to near the still damp bed. Not wanting to see if it was Virus mush or something else. I ventured into the room where the Viruses had been gathered. The slightly larger room held a single bed but this room felt more...

Focused on.

Dead flowers, cards, a popped balloon, and a bed that had an impression of a human body but no such person was visible. The trails of slime seemed to be surrounding the bed and as I approached, the hair on my skin stood up. The cloying smell of cheap disinfectant was struggling to fight off the Viruses' putrid scent.

Something crawled out of sight and I turned in a panic but saw nothing. I realised I was breathing heavy as my own puffs of breath came out in a mist. The room was rapidly dropping in temperature.

I decided to take another step towards the bed and whispering seemed to echo from the walls.

"-Not enough."

"-Tried every-"

"Hopeless, wast-

They came all at once like a dozen insect calls, making each voice lost in the storm of sudden noise before it all cut off at once. I used my Observe on the bed and it returned nothing out of the ordinary but I knew there was something here.

Just out of... sight. I focused, trying to spot something I knew was watching me. I ignored the cold, the slight whispers, and my own panic to finally begin to feel something. A bleak sort of... nimbus on the bed. It felt like it had always been there and I just been blind but without focus, I lost sight of it.

Spiritual has increased by 1!

Skill Created: Spiritual Sense: Feel the immediate energy of nearby unhidden spirits and other ghostly creatures.

Instantly the slight cold blur of energy flickered in my eyes but subtle enough if I wasn't looking for it, I'd skip right past it. My slightly higher Spiritual stat even let me see things I hadn't before in the room. How room was seeped in a pale blue energy.

I moved right up to the bed. If whatever was here wanted to attack me, it could have done it when I was blind and unable to really sense it. So I had a feeling it was a little safe to approach. The increased closeness let me new senses pick up more details, the flickering of the blue that moved and danced like a dying candle flame.

"Hello?" I tried and the room just felt colder.

I touched the pillow and it was so cold it was stiff. The being didn't even seem to care or notice. I felt a lump as I pushed the pillow and fished out a small red rock from inside the pillow.

I stared as I observed it. The System ended up giving me more information than I would have gained on my own theories.

Budding Red Skill Gem: Creates a random offensive ability based on user that consumes it.

I turned it over and the being laying in the bed flickered.

Spiritual Sense has gone up!

The aura was moving in a way that I thought was a tilt but I didn't get any more feedback than that. I turned the gem over and frowned.

"These would... be my skill books?" I guessed. The System was really quiet in the Dungeon and I wondered if it was limited here or wanted to keep helping to a minimal. I thought about the ability to turn paper and words into direct knowledge and ability.

Maybe my System was weaker without Gaia and couldn't do that? Maybe these gems would be the best it could offer which meant...

I would need to find Dungeons to get gems. But the interesting thing was that the gem wasn't restricted to being used by me. I could give this to a random person and they would get something. I wondered if these things were limited?

The random aspect made it feel a little interesting as well.

I had no idea how to use it so I tried squeezing it and the stone cracked and turned to dust as my eyes went blank. My brain felt like it was being flipped like a pancake and then mashed into gooey potatoes before I snapped back to reality with a wince.

Budding Red Gem used!

One-Handed Blunt weapons skill gained! Auto levelled to 3 due to overabundant common of gained skill.

I wasn't sure having a decent idea of how to blackjack monsters and crush noses with a nightstick was worth my current headache. As I used the gem, the being in the room seemed to relax slightly. It breathed and I heard it!

The bed impression faded and the echo of whatever person had left behind the skill gem in this realm was gone from the bed. I stared and backed out of the room, only turning at the last moment before I reminded myself the real danger was outside the room.

I flexed my hand, the pain fading fast now that the information settled. I looked around at the broken pipes and easy to make single-handed weapons that worked with my new skill.

It wasn't just improving my use of the skill but I was now seeing the sheer potential of the objects I was ignoring before. I prefer the distance my pole had but I was a little happy to know I was not going to be weaponless anytime soon.

I moved down the dark broken hall, keeping my eyes open for more of those crystals and gems. I was suddenly very eager to find more.

The second floor was one giant rust puddle. The roofs, the walls, the doors... all covered in Virus remains. It was as if reality itself had rusted before my eyes. That wouldn't be enough to stop me but the form ahead did.

It was a step up from a virus in the fact it had legs.

One Observe later and...

Cannibal Sick White Cell: Monster. G-2

A slightly evolved being that grew firm limbs to tear viruses apart for food. It has decided anything tastes good at this point.

It was like a tadpole with two legs that ended in hands and not feet. It turned, slapping the ground and the 'head' of the being was a singular black mouth with serrated teeth. It had no eyes but I knew it saw me.

Note to self, work on stealth...

The thing charged, walking on those terribly balanced handlegs. I was about to think I had time before it leapt, pressing off the ground and gaining a burst of speed. I pretended it was an ugly pebble and smashed it with my steel pole. It was sent off-course and into the wall where a bulletin board crashed down on top of it.

A lot of its odd teeth and one handleg was broken. The limb bend in disgusting directions as it leaked silver ichor. It tried to stand but I rammed a flaming pipe into it and it burned just as well as anything in this place.

Cannibal Sick White Cell defeated! 2 EXP gained! Defeat 9 more to gain more information on this foe!

I was about to relax when another notification appeared.

Well done! Flamebrand has levelled up! More damage caused by fire contact! 3 levels left until skill evolves.

Oh... yes.

If there were two things I greatly enjoyed in a game was a decent bestiary and skill evolution... along with some monster taming.

I heard shuffling down the hall and saw two more Can-

Screw it new name. The Tadcells slapped their way down towards me and I was confident I could handle them. One fell to an accurate pebble Discard, the rock rupturing its body which fell down with a thump. The focus let the other one close the distance and I was unprepared for the Tadcell's mouth launching out like a slimy spear and latching on to my leg.

I gave a scream of pain as the muscles felt like it was shriveling upon itself. The thing was draining my blood like a damn leech!

My HP cheerfully told me I was losing 2 HP a second before I stabbed the thing with a fiery stab. I backed down the stairs and watched my injured leg knit up slowly.

I dragged my status up.

True name: Russel Rivers

Given name:

Nickname:

Title: The Gamer

HP: 18/24(Physical x3) (regen HP is Phy /2 rounded up a min)

EXP:29/100

ENE: 25 (5X ENE Stat) (regen ene stat itself rounded up a min)

Physical: 8

Spiritual: 7

Energy: 5

Mental: 5

Points: 0

Skills:

Danger sense 2: You can sense the danger of a truck traveling into your face within inches!

Gamer Body Max: Allows the body to be adaptable and attain growth.

Gamer Mind Max: Allows visualization of menus and pop-ups! Allows user to see unique Gamer elements in the world!

Climbing: 2

Acting lv 2 Acting allows you to be seen as doing something believable. Do not cover lies you try to convey unless you act in character. Mental Skill.

Stealing lv 3. Allows you to take items with increasing ease if the item does not belong to you. The effects are subtle at first. Physical skill.

Physical Exercise Lv 6 A series of movements and training to enhance the body. Every 5 levels increases the Physical stat by 1! Has various effects on health and recovery.

Salvage Lv 1: Increase the odds that you can find a usable item from destroyed equipment, foes, and environment in better condition. Physical skill.

Combat Rod Proficiency Lv 5: Rods offer the ability to crack skulls. Use this ability with great relish. Increases skill with this weapon and every 10 levels grants 2 Physical stat.

Fire Affinity Lv 2: Increase control and mastery over fire based magic and energy skills. Every 5 levels increase Energy by 1!

Small Projectile Throwing Lv 4: Throw small projectiles with increasing damage and accuracy. Physical skill.

Spiritual Sense Lv 2: Feel the immediate energy of nearby unhidden spirits and other ghostly creatures. Spiritual

One-Handed Blunt Weapons Lv 3: One-handed blunt weapons have increased damage and skill.

Power Swing Lv 1: Use a blunt weapon with your energy to create a strong attack! Cost 2 Energy! Energy skill.

Flamebrand Lv 2: Coat handheld weapon in a weak burst of fire, doing extra elemental damage on impact! Cost 3 Energy and sustain costs 1 Energy every 10 seconds. Energy skill.

Inferior Pebble Discard Lv 2: Throw these worthless rocks at foes to show your love for only the purest of pebbles! Cost 1 Energy. Energy-based.

Observe lv 3: See information about targets. Right now, only information the user knows already can be summed up

Quest: Clear the Malice zone!

I found my HP had decided to show up. A solid 24 and my regen was 4 a minute. It could be way worse but that damn Tadcell had sucked 4 HP in a few seconds. If three or so ganged up on me... I was one dead Russ.

I saw an awaiting notification now the battle was over. It seemed they remained out of sight until I felt safe. I had a feeling if I needed, I could pull them up in battle but that seemed risky.

Well done! Inferior Pebble Discard has levelled up! Increased Damage and range. Skill will evolve in 3 levels!

It seemed only my current useable skills were able to evolve, which seemed very weird. Why wasn't my passive skills evolving? I peered over the top step and saw another three Tadcells devouring their now dead brethren.

Well, they were cannibals, I supposed they wouldn't miss a meal for anything like mourning. I wasn't eager to get suckered again so I retreated down to the first floor to let my HP heal. I had a feeling I didn't want to leave floors uncleared.

Skill gems or an ambush could be missed and while I would be upset at the first, I would be dead to the second. It was an old habit.

I was one of those people who found the right path in Dungeons then had to go find the wrong ways for the treasure and secrets. I just hoped that the Dungeon was kind enough to put the stronger monsters on the top floors and left the weak ones at the bottom.

I paused as I thought of something.

I moved quietly back to the first intersection and looked to the stairs where a set went down. The sign another odd one.

Intensive Morgue.

I stared at the obvious death trap path for a long time before I chucked a flaming pebble down the dark steps and watched it bounce for a distance before the fire faded. No monsters but it was really dark down there.

I had to make a choice now. Up and into the Tadcells... or down into the place that was creepy by real-world standards?

Choices.

Would the boss be at the top or in the dark basement? I had a feeling that there would be a boss. Something about the whole idea of this place would make it bizarre not to have one.

A queer wind mourned up from the deep darkness and I turned on my foot and marched back towards the Tadcells on the second floor. I couldn't only take so much horror death flags before I was beginning to get nervous.

Besides, I could set Tadcells on fire. The Dark had left an odd unease in me since I stared in the abyss of this realm.

I wondered if I had a mental psychotic problem of the dark now? I decided to think about that later. For now, I went to set walking cannibal white cells with hand legs on fire. It was good for the soul!

Not so much for the nose.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Stewart92

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 6, 2019

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#189

3X Tadcells have been eliminated! 6 EXP gained!

I eyed the horrible mush the things turned into. My pebbles somewhere in the bubbling piles. I was not going fishing for them. But that was the beauty of tiny little rocks. I could find them almost anywhere. Their disposability only added to their charm in that sense.

Inventory: 74 pebbles (1 stack)

I was rocked and loaded. I decided to move on along the second floor before the newly named Tadcells brought more of the hungry horde to me. I knew I had to find either more gems or the beast in charge.

While I was okay in a decent fight so far... I was lacking in proper area damage which meant groups were my biggest foes right now. I'd rather take out the single boss than face 10 Tadcells at this point. I turned down the hall and found it led to a nurses station where shadows lingered.

I risked nothing and threw a flaming pebble. The shadows under behind the desk moved and I blanched at the 'roided Tadcell that appeared, angered by the fire I threw.

Empowered Tadcell: Monster. G-2

This Tadcell seems to have devoured something to improve itself above its peers.

Oh great, the demon viruses were getting swole. The fact it was still considered a G-2 gave me hope. But if the values were split even more, I had a feeling this beastie would be a micro rank above the rest.

It charged and I saw the clumsy handlegs were split into more tiny hands, giving the creature a far more balanced lope towards me. I turned and ran, waving my flaming rod as a ward. It stopped me from getting jumped on as the creature seemed to wary to get close to the flames it seemed.

It moved quickly to the side and crawled along the ceiling, leaving cracks behind as its tiny hands dragged it forward. I swiped and jabbed but the damn thing used its damn mutant hands to swing and move out of the way, causing chunks of the ceiling to rain down, filling the hall with dust.

It stung my eyes and I backed off, firing flaming pebbles at the ceiling. The impacts sounded solid and not the burning squish I was hoping for. The thing dove for me just as my Danger Senses went wild. I brought my now normal steel pole up as I couldn't enchant more than one weapon at a time with Flamebrand.

The thing slid on and screeched, showering me in silver ichor with streaks of blue flowing through the liquid as it soaked into my face and hair. I ignited the pole and the screeching went almost painful before it collapsed like a burnt marshmallow off my pole, landing in a heavy thump.

I stood there for a long time, feeling things slip through my hair and clothes to the ground.

Empowered Tadcell defeated! 4 EXP!

I forced a whimper back as the scene clinging to me was too terrible to bear. I made sure my eyes were clear and spat a few times to make sure I wasn't tasting anything. The System would tell him if the liquid was dangerous in a few seconds but he felt fine...

Mental strain acquired! Minor Shock! You are currently a little numb. Will wear off shortly.

Well, never mind.

I was about to find a closet to hide in to have a breakdown in when I saw the corpse below me shift and crumple slightly as a yellow crystal grew from its body like a flower. It was a skill gem!

Or some sort of gem. I grabbed it and slipped into back down the stairs for some cover.

I was beginning to feel the trembles in my finger and knew my shock was going away. It kinda sucked at times not having a magical trauma repressor. Gamer's Mind might not be causing funky emotional problems but it did mean I had to learn to deal with this.

"O-Observe," I asked and the window appeared.

Budding Yellow Item Gem: Rank G-1

Create a random item within a chosen field category. Example: Medicine, metal, food, and so on. Item will be the same value as gem.

"Hogyoku," I said and a window appeared.

Gem is of inferior rank to the requested item. Please try again.

"Figures," I sighed. The window shifted.

Reality is what you make of it but do expect some effort in shaping it, please.

Well, a gacha crystal for anything I needed. Oh boy, this was going to play havoc on my slight gambling addiction to these kinda things. But I knew had to be a little logical.

What did I need to survive this place? I messed around with it for a few minutes, keeping my danger senses on alert as I tried things. I soon learned that the item gems had some restrictions, at least at this level.

I couldn't make skill books or red gems. The System did hint, however, that such a thing may not be impossible with higher yellow gems but usually, it is unwise to waste on gem for another unless an emergency. A Reaper's sword was too high ranked as was a mod soul. I wasn't expecting them to be available but if I got lucky I wasn't gonna turn down a magical girl in sword form or an ally with supernatural powers. Anything magical or enchanted seemed to be too high grade as well.

No flaming sword of justice just yet sadly. Though, I could get a rusty sword and just light it on fire myself. I pondered the question for some time. I had weapons, some magic, a decent range for now... what I was really lacking was protection and healing.

So I had to think of item wise if I wanted crappy armor or a crappy one time heal? Avoid damage or heal the damage? Naturally, the armour would help me avoid instant death and have more than one use hopefully.

The healing would be no good if I got smashed to pieces before I needed it.

"Combat Protection," I intoned. A message appeared.

Would you like to create a random item to assist in protection in battle?

I confirmed it and the gem shattered in my hands, reforming in a stretching light...

I was soon holding a small round wooden shield with a chip taken out one side like a slice missing form a pizza.

Small Wooden Chipped Buckler: Shield. G-1

A small arm shield that can be used to deflect and redirect incoming attacks. May break if overused.

"I want a refund!" I said instantly.

No refunds.

"But I wanted armor," I whined.

Russ should have said 'armor' or 'chest armor'. is not responsible for Russ' bad life choices.

I eyed the shield and slipped it on. It felt a bit awkward with the combat rod but I couldn't exactly wish it away and hoped I got something else now.

I trotted off down pass the nurses station and felt the excitement grew once again. Despite being covered in virus blood and getting a shield... I was eager to find more crystals! I spotted a space on the floor where the crystal must have formed, a hidden space where the nurse might keep snacks or things from patients or bosses.

The Tadcell must have just eaten it because it was there.

If I saw a named creature or something with a suffix... I could bet they had gems. I checked each room and found space was hazy. Like the further, I ventured into the hospital and away from the portal to reality, the fuzzing the details got. I watched a thin line between detailed and fuzzy slowly moving like only having one lens in a pair of glasses.

The fuzzy parts came into sharp focus slowly as the unseen line moved down the hall, adding detail as it went.

It was like this place was gaining more mass and solidness as time went on. What that would do if left too long or the effect on reality? I didn't want to find out. I peered around another corner and saw a pile of Tadcells tearing into each other like animals, fighting over the melted form of a Virus Pile. Their scuffle was making a hell of a lot of noise.

I readied my pebble and caught all three as one burned, igniting the other two in an easy kill.

6 EXP gained!

I tried to suppress a slight disappointment as there were no crystals but I marched on through a large waiting room as I ventured into a massacre. Tadcells were strewn about the room like ragdolls and left bleeding by something large in the center. Chairs were yanked and thrown by the mass of tentacles from the beasts back.

It turned at my entrance and I saw five eyes, two mouths, and a center maw that split down its front to reveal undulating rows of teeth as the inside of the beast held no organs, just more space for food.

The pink skin had odd moles of hair and looked ready to burst as it turned to face me.

"Holy crap," I said and my stomach almost fled my mouth.

It was the most horrible thing I had ever seen.

Tumor Tremor: Monster. G-3

A malicious creeping growth that is no longer content to wait for years to consume flesh.

I threw a flaming Discard pebble right into that maw and it lit the insides up to show many Tadcells that had dissolved into the inner flesh, becoming one with the creature. Some of them ignited but the Tumor shut its maw and smoke leaked out before it opened again to reveal the fire has been smothered.

It began to drool as it looked at me.

If I ran for the hallway, I was risking a tight space with those three tentacles it had on its back and no way to dodge. I had to use this open space as best I could and not get eaten.

I was sure... I could that.

I threw more flaming pebbles as I ran. I barely glanced at the notifications as I ran.

Small throwing projectiles has reached level 5! This skill will evolve in 5 levels.

Flamebrand has reached level 3! This skill will evolve in 2 levels.

The flaming rocks hit the outside of the beast and it shook off the small weapons as they sizzled with little effect on the thick slimy hide. I moved aside as a chair was flung at me and the thing began to lumber towards me. It was slow but those tentacles whipped out for chairs and those things had a range on them.

I felt a little out of options until I raised my pole and saw my shield. I had an idea. A horrible, terrible idea.

I yanked it off and it ignited in a fire, becoming a sudden fearsome object. I felt my aim adjust and my mind focus right into those eyes.

"Fetch," I said and flung it. The thing was a disk of sun and heat and it soared like Apollo himself was pulling it. The chip in the shield bite into the mass of eyes and gouged as it churned the flesh like butter, vanishing into the thing where it brain would be.

The thing... paused for a moment as its remaining eyes looked inwards. It began to move forward again until I caught sight some of the innards of its head sticking out and I saw a concentrated mass of Virus Piles. My flaming shield gave off one more spark and the purple fluids trying to escape caught fire. I turned and ran as the thing didn't even notice the now bubbling Virus Piles in its own head going up.

I was lifted off my feet and carried down the hall as the wave of energy following the massive explosion smacked into my back. I landed in a harsh crumpled pile as the whole creature wailed in the room, slashing wildly in pain until it melted in on itself.

I watched with bleary eyes.

"Did... I kill the boss?" I asked dazed and in pain.

Tumor Tremor kill! 15 EXP

X6 Tadcells killed. 12 EXP

Fire affinity has reached level 3!

Explosion affinity has been created!

Explosion Affinity Lv 1: You don't want the world to burn. You want it to pop with beauty. And by pop, the system means explode. Increased damage done by explosions.

Domain is still stable. Core Domain Holder still alive! Please do not die, Russ!

"I just struggled against a mini-boss." I sighed and yanked myself up, making sure my body didn't have any breaks but besides what felt like burned eyebrows, I felt alright. As I moved back into the waiting room, the far door slowly opened of their own power.

I stared but was shocked to see the center of the room glow as my new bud, Portal, appeared.

Safe haven created! System will do this where possible. You have fought well. Please recover and nourish yourself. System is creating Zone lines to prevent an enemy ambush.

"Thank you," I said quietly and the portal gurgled and pillow flew out the black space. I caught in surprise.

Portal has been taking things nearby of use. Oddity in its programming but not unwelcome. Also... no thanks are needed. The System would be a poor thing without her User.

I held the pillow as the zone lines removed the enemy corpses and left behind two glinting gems. One red and one blue.

"Her? You're a girl?" I blinked.

All men name their instruments and expensive things of pride as a 'her'. I am the best thing you will ever own so I am by default, a she.

I gave her a wry smile.

"At least you are humble," I joked.

Humble is not a program I posses. Please try a lesser model with self-worth issues.

I eyed my gems, still feeling the relief of being alive.

Budding Red offensive Skill Gem.G-2

Budding Blue Creation Skill Gem. G-1

I hugged my portal pillow and decided a quick little rest would be nice. I picked up my gems and put them into my inventory. I deal with them soon enough. I barely remember munching some breakfast bars, sipping some water and using a spare bottle to clean myself off in a corner.

I felt better. I felt alive.

I felt... my warm pillow as the Portal's soft hum and red light soothed me into a quick nap.

Sleep well, Russel.

I barely read the words before I passed out in a safe corner.

My first day as a Gamer and I killed demon tumors and viruses. I could hardly wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 9: Direct Goals

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Stewart92

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 7, 2019

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#211

I didn't sleep for too long. Despite my safe barriers, the oppressive aura of the Malice Zone made it hard to remain relaxed for too long. By the System's indication, I had been out for an hour or so and I had to rub crust from eyes and yawn.

I stared blankly up at the ceiling where I saw my shield! I was buried into the ceiling tiles like a throwing star. It looked a little cracked but still useable. I pulled a chair over and frowned as I still lacked the reach.

I had to settle for poking it with my rod and it eventually was nudged it loose into my waiting hands.

"Welcome back my flaming disc of awesome!" I beamed. Strapping it back on, I took a chance to drink some water and ask some questions about my new finds.

"System? Can I influence the direction of my offensive skill gem? Like said I wanted a fire-related ability, could I nudge it that way?" I inquired.

No. Skill Gems are formed by existing or leftover experiences of the Zone. Thye swap the versatility of item gems that can vary from useless to maybe useful at current rank. With the red gems, you will always get a skill that has combat applications if not an outright Active skill to use similar to your Flamebrand or Power Swing.

I mulled that over.

So red gems were more just use them and abuse them. Yellow gems required thought on my current needs and was adaptable if potentially not helpful at worse case scenarios if the wording or my bad luck came out bad.

Red gems could maybe grant skills I wouldn't use or passives that didn't synch well but at worse, they would always offer my power in the form of passive or active powers. Something no one could take away from me and I could grind later if I enjoyed them.

I was really liking the gem system so far.

I turned to the blue gem.

"I think I get it but do you mind expanding on the blue gems?" I said as I turned the blue teardrop in my hand over curiously.

Blue depicts creation. Creation can range from summons, weapons, portals, crafting, buildings, and more. Blues are considered support as they lack direct damage from yourself.

I imagine as a blue G-1 rank, I was unlikely to get a dragon or a blood knight as a summon.

I repeated my query of it was able to be directed like Yellow gems and got a firm no. I didn't mind as the build-up of blues could pave the way for an army... base building, and even more. I crushed it and my head pulsed in slight pain as the information found space for itself.

Well done! You have learned the skill: Sanitary Rock Creation! Skill is levelled to 2 due to the common level of skill.

I quirked an eyebrow and read my new skill.

Sanitary Rock Creation Lv 2: Active skill. Energy.

Summons a fragile rock that casts a light that sanitizes and cleans a small radius around it from filth and reduced fatigue of user and allies. Cost 3 ENE

I had no idea if I just got let down or rewarded heavily combat wise but as a person still covered in goo and blood...

This was amazing.

I cast it and memories of clean cotton and wide-open windows letting in fresh air filled my mind. The scent filled my lungs and it was soothing like cleaning for my soul.

I looked down at the porous rock I now held that gave off a soft yellow light like a night lamp. The light faded within a foot or so but it did light the area up beyond the gloom. I moved it and winced as it crumbled at the gentlest movements. I put it down and held my hand over it.

I Observed it as I waited.

Sanitary rock(Creation of Russel).

A fragile rock that emits cleaning light. Duration left: 1 minute.

Effect: a weak cleaning aura that struggles against stains and dirt.

Not exactly the bleach scrub I was hoping for. I cut the skill some slack since it was only level 2. I imagine evolutions would be a powerful aura to heal friends and even remove powerful poisons. I was a little amused that yet again I was throwing rocks around albeit with a different intent.

Watch out Aizen, the Rock King was coming for you.

I created another three and experimented with crushing them or generally throwing them. The crushed one seemed to release all its energy at once before fading. The thrown one turned to dust before it impacted anything.

My first one expired and I saw the small spot around might have looked less rusty than the rest of the room. Maybe...

Well, I would find a use for them. I was noting I got a skill to clean and sanitize from the hospital but didn't know enough to guess if that was luck of outside influence.

I crushed my red gem.

Well done! You have gained the active skill: Flimsy Weak Tentacle. Skill is levelled to two due to common rarity.

Pain shot through my entire body as things rearranged without my consent. I saw a stripe of my arm skin lift and turn from shifting flesh into a pink rope with faint veins. The pain stopped and I gasped as I spouted a tentacle.

In Japan.

Oh no...

The new limb slowly moved, using new muscles to hold itself up and I began to understand how to move it and control it as the knowledge finally settled.

Flimsy Weak Tentacle: Active Skill. Physical.

Sprout a tentacle the length of your arm from any part of your body. Cost 10 Energy. Sustained at no cost once formed. Limb will have same sensations as normal limbs.

This was so damn weird and disgusting... and handy.

My tentacl- I shuddered and moved the limb slowly, it shifted around my body as a speed that was slower than Virus Piles. I had it near my lower back and still had full awareness of it.

There, now it was just an ugly tail.

The amazing side of this fucking weird thing?

I could access my inventory with it. It also seemed to ignore my clothes with some odd phasing thing. I was glad I would not be cutting holes into my clothes but it raises odd questions nonetheless.

I turned the skill off and it melted back into me with ease. I shuddered. All skills had uses, didn't meant they weren't a bit gross at times. I knew that the gem must have come from the Tumor's own tentacles.

I guess gems could be influenced by the source they came from but the blue gem had taken the opposite reaction of flesh and illness, doing the healing.

Two gems, two outcomes of the same spectrum. One got you closer to the tumour and one became a repellent. I got its strength and learned how to weaken them in the future. How... handy.

For improving your sensory sensations and taxing your brain with new input, your Mental stat has risen!

I opened my skill page and looked at the Tentacle skill again. I had missed the last line in my panic.

Increased Physical stat every 10 levels. Increases Mental Stat every 15.

Oh great, the skill was useful. Maybe future versions might be less disgusting or I could level it where no one could see me.

Feeling slightly better and wondered if my Mental stat helped with mental well being and general health up there? I moved to the barrier and peered out. A Tadcell threw itself from the group of ten at me and I yanked back as the thing smashed into the barrier with no effect.

They must have been drawn to the room by the demise of the Tumor. I pondered how best to handle this. Do I continue with fiery death or did I level Pure Rock (my own name for the skill)?. Despite being no combat, I had a feeling using them in interesting ways would pump more results than constantly recasting it.

I tried it and saw my Energy was below half so I wouldn't be messing around too much. The Pure Rock was placed outside the barrier. The faint glow I could see beyond the fuzzy barrier was engulfed instantly and a white flash erupted. I risked a peek out and saw two of the things were clawing at their bodies where the Pure Rock must had touched their flesh. They had a small rash on their main body. I mean A serious pebble would kill these things so the destructive power was obviously...

Needing work.

I chucked two more down the hall and the group actually scattered to chase them, leaving three visible ones behind to readying an attack at me.

I swung with my pipe and two ignited while the other backed off as if trying to regroup with the horde. I killed that one with a Discarded pebble.

6 EXP gained!

Combat rod Proficiency has levelled up to 6!

Neato.

There were bright flashes and the Tadcells dispersed as if panicking at the burning. I assumed pain for them was non-existing as they would usually die in one hit. Actual suffering seemed to be a new concept to these Viruses.

I ended the two that came back towards me for a lovely 4 EXP and the hallway went quiet. I waited a minute to see if I could hear more thundering hordes but I didn't seem to be so desired by the little scavengers now that I was laying on the hurt.

I moved to the crossroads of the hallway. None screamed 'Boss Route' and I picked North. My go-to direction. I passed rooms with nothing in them and came to a stop near a hallway that split again. I did hear something this time but it faded fast. I frowned as I looked around at the rusty floor and walls, noticing gouge marks.

I saw the remains of two Tumor Tremors littering the hallway that lead to an open elevator shaft. The two mawed beasts had been half torn, half-devoured. Ichor seeped along the floors. I didn't spot any gems but it looked like the heads and center mass of the creatures had been removed violently. I peered into the elevator, dropping a Pure Rock down the shaft. It crumbled a floor below, briefly showing long streaks of ichor and claw marks. The floor above looked cemented off.

This lift only went down.

Skill name changed to Pure Rock!

Pure Rock has reached level 3! Increased effect and light! Pure Rock will evolve in 2 levels.

I knew I could climb higher which confused on my I came this way and the danger seemed to be below. I was informed ever so casually by the System.

Malice Zones take into all surrounding factors. The state of the area, the history, the current reputation, and inhabitants. While the Core Domain Keeper, the CDK, is in charge... it does not alone rule this realm.

Based on gather intent, a nearby Spirit was developing Demi-Hollow features. That too would have been considered as a factor of content.

"So I got a potentially beefed up free-roaming pissed off ghost as well as a boss in here?" I asked with incredulity.

Death of additional powerful forces is not required to collapse Malice Zone. However...

I sighed.

"However, loot," I waved a hand. I used a levelled Pure Rock and it was maybe a bit brighter and lasted half a second longer in the fall. The slight clattering it made on the way down made me wince.

I half expected to hear the drums of war.

I chose the path of logistics.

I was already this far up and the higher I went, the lighter it seemed to become. I was growing accustomed to the Tadcells and maybe I was sure I knew how to kill the Tumors. The ones I saw in the distance has had a firm G-2 rating. Making the one I fought clearly stronger.

I searched carefully in rooms for hidden gems or cold spots where I could find some but these floors had been picked clean with mindless effort. I kept my back to walls and stopped ever so often to see if I heard anything following me. I did not need superboss and boss gunning for me in the same room.

There was an interesting thing I learned after I kill three Tadcells and another Tumor with a flaming frisbee that ignited its devoured Virus Piles. Getting 16 EXP altogether, I was seeing few... and fewer monsters as I climbed.

It was freaking me out a little.

I saw a Tadcell ahead and it was running into the darkness, vanishing before I could nail it with a pebble. I followed carefully and found an impressive door at the end of a hall. Wide oak doors that the Tadcell slipped into.

I frowned at the obviously out of place door compared to the ruinous hospital. I smelled a trap but my options were to turn back of sit here and panic. Without more monsters, I could hardly make grand progress on getting ready so I just opened the door to the room beyond and froze.

Sunlight gently flowed in through white curtains as a perfectly clean room with rugs and books cases made the feel of the room become important.

I stared at the elderly gentleman sitting in an armchair near the window, lost in thought.

I saw no sign of the Tadcells. The man looked up with an elegant beard and looked pleased to see me.

"Ah, there you are, young man. I was getting worried you wouldn't make it before I... well, come in," he beckoned and I didn't have danger sense going off. The man stood and his tailored suit of browns and red made him seem grandfatherly.

I didn't trust the scene at all.

He must have expected that.

"Or remain near the door, It makes sense to be on your guard. I am Director Noda Mori. Well, ex-Director as my hospital has very much ceased to be under the guidance of my son," he sighed and the scene shimmered slightly.

"I don't understand," I said cautiously. The man's chuckle was light and held no menace to it.

"As I wouldn't if I were not fed information as this place formed. Quite a curious power you have to make this reality exist. As I know that I am not the Noda Mori that once was alive and must have moved on... I am an echo of him. A small light that was pulled up along with the darkness. If I am to understand what I feel... I am to be classed by your power as a 'NPC'," he mused. I did take a step in and the space felt very odd.

"Sorry for busting up your hospital, Director Mori," I said and he brushed this off.

"It should be brought down. This lingering version is not how I want to see my work. I thank you for easing the pressing decay as you have but I fear you merely sent the infection to gather and grow into your final obstacle. I have a request if you wouldn't mind humouring a foolish old man?" he said hopefully.

I saw no harm so I nodded.

"My son lingers in the real world. I can feel his greed and growing madness chaining him here. If you return, would you release him? Be it to the afterlife or to a quiet rest?" he asked, the pain in his eyes mingling with the shame of his own powerlessness.

It was always nice when Quests ended up being something you already planned to do. I smiled.

"Count on me, Director. Any idea what the infection is gonna look like?" I decided to ask.

"No, but it will be the gathering of decay, the failures of my staff, the sucking greed of my son, and darkness. I cannot do much but I offer you a... gem?" he said in confusion as it seemed his own mind was getting a silent lesson.

"Ah yes. I can offer you a G-1 gem of any colour! How interesting but it will spend me," he warned. After the tentacle, I had my share of red. The usability of blues seemed to need massive build-up and yellows were a gamble.

"What colours can you offer?" I said instead. The man hummed and thought about it.

"A red, blue, green, yellow, indigo, orange, and violet," he announced.

I stared.

That... was a lot of sudden options.

I sat down in the chair and tilted my head.

"Mind if I think about it?" I asked and the man smiled.

"Let me rustle you up some tea. I have not had any guests besides rude hand monsters and my thoughts," the man beamed. Director Mori was a pretty swell guy.

Crystals, quests, lore, and now tea.

I rated him as a damn good NPC but a nice host as well.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Stewart92

Aug 7, 2019

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Threadmarks 10: Greedy Loot Spawns

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Stewart92

Stewart92

Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 7, 2019

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#232

Director Mori filled me in the gaps as I sipped tea that never quite reached my stomach. It was like it just ceased to exist before I could truly enjoy it. A bit sad but I sipped since the Director had made it himself and seemed pleased to have company.

I tried not to think I was in some Dungeon sipping tea but I knew now that information was vital so I could be ready for the 'Infection' ahead.

"I see that you gathered some of these gems. Amazing creations I must say. You know that red grants offensive abilities. These can be skills or spells," he began then crinkled his face into a smile.

"Magic... I would never believe such a wonder was under my nose," he said ruefully. He carried on, drawing on the existence of the Zone that was hidden beneath the echo of Director Mori. I couldn't imagine what it was like to be an echo and part of the made-up world.

"Yellow is a pure item acquisition. These can be anything, given you have a high enough rank. No doubt G-1s offer basic objects that would be considered 'trash' at worse and 'not worth the effort' at best," he sipped his own tea here as outside the window, the sun never moved. Fake as Director Mori was.

I nodded, letting him know I figured out something similar.

"Blue is the abilities that allow creation. From active summons to crafting skills of all sorts. They may even allow you to create doors or walls of different materials. It's hard to pin down the common element besides 'creation'," he offered apologetically. Then he got to the colours I was eager to hear about.

"Green is the colour of beneficial skills. These have zero attack skills but may offer a wide arrange of healing, passive skills, and natural resistance," Mori hummed as if he wouldn't mind those himself.

"Green sounds like pure healing or buffing in some ways," I agreed. The Director smiled at his words.

"Quite! Indigo is a type of strain of gems that lend themselves to detection or avoiding detecting if you boil it down to the basics. Stealth would be the staple of this type but the sheer amount of tracking and utilities lets you find more things than you wouldn't otherwise," Mori went on.

So maybe stuff that would affect my map or interface? It sounded interesting.

"Orange is a powerful group that is best defined as limit breakers. They can enhance many aspects to be pushed past what you are capable of or reduce many limits and recharge on energy and magic meters. But in return, the limits they can remove on you they can force onto foes. Best to think of them as sliders to adjust in the battle for a time," he said next. Buffs and debuffs. I kinda wanted them before long...

"And the last one I have access to is Violet but there are more colours out there I do not have access due to my limited creation," he admitted sorrowfully. I perked up, more unknown colours?

"Violet is change. These types allow you to alter yourself in many ways to gain powers. Something as simple as animal claws to full-blown inhuman shapes. It may not even be a moving creature. You could transform into things that benefit others or alter your body to use senses not usually possible. I simply do not know," Mori finished.

I leaned back, suddenly overwhelmed with choices. Mori seemed to see my conflict and he went quiet to allow me time to think.

I right away declined red and yellow. I simply wasn't able to get much out of a yellow gem I thought that might help and a red gem skill wouldn't be levelled up or particularly strong for a G-1 gem. After a moment, I ruled out blue as well. If Pure Rock was a measure then they needed massive levelling to be useful and a G-1 wouldn't cut it either.

Leaving me with a new colour to pick. Green for a maybe heal. Indigo for some detection or location ability or violet for a change in my body somehow. The System did say that if I used them then they would slightly alter to fit me but not by much.

There was a good chance the boss would drop some as well. Which would likely include a red.

I was torn between green and violet. Wanting the safety of a heal or a shield but the usefulness of maybe flight or some natural body armour was tempting as well.

Not that I expected flight with a G-1 but I could pretend.

There was a second option... there was one more foe besides the main boss and I had no doubt there would be crystals down there in the morgue.

"Do you know what's in the morgue?" I asked and Mori blinked.

"Hm, yes. A dark creature. It mocks me in my son's voice but it too is just a sad echo but it grows strong. It has a link to the real world I know that much," the older man said with a frown.

"Can you sense which is stronger, the boss or the basement creature?" I pressed. Mori hesitated as if he wasn't sure he could even do it or be allowed to.

"Now? The infection on the roof. It has gathered the filth to itself and the basement dweller hasn't emerged since. I think it is afraid," Mori admitted. He quickly cleared his throat.

"But the infection hasn't gone down either so it may be less about fear and simply territorial advantage over each other. They could be equals," he said and looked a little apologetic as if couldn't offer more.

I mulled that over.

"Give me the green," I finally said and Mori held out a hand, his form fading as a green gem fell to the floor.

"Good luck, Russel," the fading man said, sipping his tea as he completely vanished.

"Later, Director," I waved to the empty air. I crushed the gem with a torn heart. Hoping I made the right choice.

Well done! You gained the spell: Retrace!

Retrace Lv 1: Active spell. Magical. Teleport back to where you were located previously. Max number of steps: 5. Cannot retrace if the previous location is blocked or is sealed off. Cannot retrace through barriers or spaces smaller than current body size. Cool down 10 seconds. Cost: 2 Mana

Right, support meant more than shields and healing. It also meant really... interesting dodging powers, it seemed. Right, okay. This was not the worse ability I could have gotten by far. If I got a healing burn or a soothing rest power, I'd be more pissed.

I blinked as my energy bar was refilled. I turned to Director Mori's empty space then at my fading cup. I think...

He may have just given me a refresh on top of a gem. That sly old fox!

The room around me blinked away and I was in an empty hallway before a flight of stairs which claimed that it led to the roof. I grimaced as Retrace finally settled, the knowledge of slotting in a little painfully.

It wasn't time reversal or true teleportation, it felt more like exact backwards motions calculated down to the way my hair moved. My brain and body functions remained moving at the same speed as everyone else.

So it wasn't gonna undo damage or let me move through fire unharmed. I had to be careful with it or I'd end up doing more damage to myself than the foe.

Still, it was a damn good ambush or escape ability in a pinch. Shame about the cool down.

I turned and travelled through the now quiet hospital. Down to the ground floor and at the top of the morgue stairs. I held my Pure Rock like a limited light and took the steps ever so slowly. There was hardly any rust here like it was avoided. Which I had the strong urge to do as well.

I ended up at another narrow hallway with absolute darkness ahead. I chucked a spare Pure Rock and it clattered once before breaking. Showing closed doors and more damage to the walls.

Pure Rock has reached level 4! Pure Rock will evolve in one more level! Increased durability and light radius.

That damn rock was levelling fast.

"Little fly wandered into the night..." a lone droning voice hissed from far off. I chucked another rock and slightly brighter rock bounced, cracked but actually landed at the end of the hall without breaking!

I now had a light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. I moved forward, holding my steel pole firmly as it ignited.

"A spicy meal for little old me. How kind. How kind..." the voice mused and it seemed it was in another part of the basement altogether. I hadn't heard it move.

"Sure, whose paying the take out fee? Do I sign it out to creepy spider demon using cliche fly terms?" I called and the voice rumbled with a queasy noise.

It took me a moment to understand it was laughing.

"Spiders... always taking credit of eating spiders when others are known for their taste. I do not need venom or web to find you," the voice said amused. The voice faded and something heavy crunched stone as it moved. I frowned and moved forward, using my Pure Rock to peer around the corner.

The hallway ahead had a huge depression on the wall where something had kicked off it with enough force to crack the wall.

Oh neat. Just what I wanted. Bouncy demon with witty remarks.

If I had to fight an evil kangaroo I was fucked. Those swole pricks didn't need magic to hurt me. I moved forward and chucked more Pure Rocks at the corners. The basement seemed to intersect like a giant number 8. Two massive rooms had empty body backs and chained up freezer lockers. At the far end, I found a door with the elevator and another large door. Grimacing, I moved into it and nearly fell three feet into a pool of brown murky water.

Something had turned the very heart of this place into a swamp. Pipes gushed waterfalls as mounds of slime and mud created artificial pillars. A large broken boiler at the back gushed mist making it hot as sin in the large room.

What really caught my eye was in the corners were two large piles of glowing yellow eggs about the size of a watermelon.

Inside, Tadcells curled up, undeveloped and frail.

"My boss senses be tingling," I announced and the split second I got from danger sense was all I got in a warning. I activated my Retrace and between my suddenly narrow vision as I shifted back. A large shadow that had emerged from the elevator crashed into the room. If I had been standing there, I would have been crushed or forced into the water.

The large purple frog turned, its oddly curving skull stretching the skin as sick yellow eyes locked on to me. I had the oddest sense of deja vu as the body actually stood on two legs like a person.

The clawed webbed hands flexed as if readying itself.

"You Mori's kid?" I shouted and the frog actually paused.

"Am I? Was he himself? Are we really anything here?" it mused and a spiky tongue licked the rather flat face it had.

"He was telling me how his son ruined the place and ran it into the ground," I said lightly. I used the chance to Observe him as he visibly looked angry.

Greed Spawn: Monster. G-4

An echo with much power as it grows in strength to match the Demi-Hollow it is based off. It has fast movements and the ability to think.

"My father left me with a crumbling empire! I was on a sinking ship!" the frog screamed and it drooled a horrible yellow spit. He growled.

"I'll kill you. Eat you. Eat my spawn and eat the very thing I own. This place will be mine!" he hissed and the ugly eyes narrowed on me.

"Copying the big guy upstairs? Eating the kids to get strong?" I mused and the frog shrugged, a disturbing human gesture.

"If it works..." he trailed off. He suddenly moved.

The tongue shot out and I was yanked hard towards the open mouth but I Retraced and found myself even further back. I gripped my hand where the spikes had dug into my flesh. I fired a bunch of Firebrand Discard pebbles at the rushing form as Greed tried to follow me into the hall.

He screeched as his slimy purple skin sizzled. I ignited my pipe next but the frog vomited a puddle of yellow spit. I jumped back, the splash impacting the ground.

The few drops on my shirt eat through the fabric and I yelped at the burning sensation.

Acid spit... fricking acid spit.

I had a terrible idea so I through my flaming shield at him, repeating my frisbee tactic. Greed put both hands up and the shield left black smouldering burns before Greed crushed it with one hand but I was already right in front of him.

His yellow eyes opened wide as did his mouth.

I threw a Pure Rock in and as his claws went for my soft flesh... I retraced.

I noticed I left a bit of an obvious blur when I backtracked. I had a feeling faster foes or sharp-eyed ones would be able to track me...

The Pure Rock vanished down his throat and he gagged. He coughed and looked alarmed. A sizzling noise came from the mouth as the Pure Rock removed some protective coating from his mouth, letting his own stupid acid spit burn himself.

"I KILL YOU!" he roared.

"Can't wait to hear that repeated a million times by every Hollow or Demon," I muttered. I pelted him with more Discard pebbles which either tore tiny chunks out his body or hit his thick head with a thunk.

He leapt and I had to throw myself to the side as he crashed into the wall, rage blinding his thoughts.

I hit the ground with a yelp barely brought the steel pipe up to block the gaping mouth that tried to remove my head.

The gleeful yellow eyes were mad as he bit down and my pipe broke into two. I felt the air leave my lungs as he slammed me into the wall and basically pinned me with his body. I tried to Retrace but the small space between his body and the wall was too thin. It didn't work.

This would be an intimate scene between me and a lover if my partner here was a giant acid-spitting demon frog. Greed pinned my arms with both of his, his teeth all he needed to end the job but he was content to enjoy this now.

"I would say I'm sad to lose the only conversational piece I've had but you do smell delicious," he informed me calmly. The acid drool was leaking again.

"Was it really a doomed job?" I asked in pain. Greed tilted his head.

"Hm?" he purred. A frog purring was a damn sound I never wanted to hear again.

"The hospital. Did your Dad really leave a bad place for you to take the blame?" I forced it out. I had to focus really hard here.

If I acted too soon...

"He was gone before I even was at the door. So eager to 'find himself' and 'enjoy his years'. He left me with no support and his advisors were sharks! I was... he left me to take his sinking ship. HE RUINED ME!" Greed screamed into my face. I winced and shook as the acid spittle burned my cheeks.

A little more but I had to be careful, this was the moment I died or he died.

Simple as.

"Well, you certainly showed him how you handled leadership and pressure. Did you even ask for help?" I managed a grin and the frog was still before the bestial noise in his throat reached a new level.

"I am going to kill-" he began and there was a wet splat noise that rapidly turned into hissing flesh.

He dropped me to scream, reaching one claw back as my new tentacle, sprouting from my shoe retracted between the creature's legs and back into my body as one half of my combat rod burned in the back of Greed's head where I stabbed him.

"You just got penetrated by my tentacle and rod. I just school girl'ed you," I spat as Greed stumble back, his body flopping as his brain was burned to ash. The hard part was the angle but he was so kind as to break my steel pipe into sharp pieces. If his stupid head wasn't so thick and shaped deformed like a frog, I'd never be able to reach for any true damage.

I slid down as his body burned. The acid now eating away at his own corpse.

"I guess if your Dad was here and heard what you said about failing... he might say 'if you can't handle the heat, get out of the spooky hospital'. Or actually he might just be too polite so I'm going to speak on his behalf," I explained to the being that was no longer able to hear me.

I was alive.

I sighed and nearly peed myself when a short horn honked cheerfully.

You have killed the optional boss: Greed.

You have gained 55 EXP! You have levelled up!

I blinked and the status went on.

All stats gain 1 from levelling. You gain 3 stat points to spend as you wish!

Next level... 2: 300 EXP required.

31/300 EXP.

By using an ambush on a powerful foe, you have gained the skill: Ambush

Ambush Lv 1: Passive. Physical. Massively increased damage to unaware foes of incoming attack.

Then came the notifications I had to ignore during the battle.

Retrace has reached level 2: Increased retrace speed.

Firebrand has reached level 4! It will evolve in one level. Increase control over density and brightness.

Discard has reached level 2! Increased speed and damage!

Flimsy Weak Tentacle has reached level 2... 3! Increased control, increased flexibility, increased length by one inch. It will evolve in 2 levels!

Fire Affinity has reached level 3! Most primitive of fire skills may be within reach of learning.

Danger Sense has reached level 3! Increased range.

Pure Rock has reached level 5! Increase the cleaning effect. It can now evolve.

Please choose a guided path for skill evolution.

Path of Sanitation or Path of Light. One path will be absorbed into the other as a sub-power and not grow as fast as the main path.

I stared blankly. The box shifted.

The System will hold the choice, please do not feel pressured until you feel ready. You fought well. Well done, Russel.

I closed my eyes and knew I had to get up and smash those eggs before I was swarmed. The words appeared in my mind instead.

The System suggests that perhaps the User should use dropped gems before making evolution choice. It would be painful to see a choice being made only for a similar skill to be gained... Just a suggestion.

I cracked my eye to see a red gem, an indigo gem, and a white gem.

"You're... right. That's pretty smart," I said with a smile.

Thank you but that idea is rated in System as below average common sense. System promises not to hold vast intelligence against Russel's as that would be cruel.

I let the silence settle for a moment.

"What does a white crystal do?" I finally asked.

The White gem is considered the best besides Black. It can be any gem colour upon use that you desire.

Oh, that was really damn useful!

"And Black?" I asked with deep interest.

Black gems will grant a desire within limits of rank of gem. Example. Money, stat points, new malice zones. I need not say that SSS- ranked Black Gems are... not to be used without caution.

"Oh."

Do not let people with ill intentions find them. Just a suggestion.

I decided to ignore the potential threats and sit back with a small amused smile.

"I bet my SSS marble is better than yours, Aizen," I mocked taunted to no one. The amusement faded as the sheer idea of having that power made me hug my legs for a long time.

8888888888888888888888888888888

Aug 8, 2019

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#269

I decided to smash the eggs before I took a massive rest. Storing the gems, I went to the swamp room.

Egg cluster: Proto-Monster. G-0

Inert Tadcells that cannot harm or do anything to defend themselves. Already, killing intent is being detected as they grow.

Observe has reached level 4!

My new level didn't reveal anything so I threw fiery pebbles into them and they caught like the yolk inside was particularly flammable.

X2 Egg Clusters destroyed! 6 EXP gained!

No gems or notifications but there was an odd slurping noise as the water around my ankles began to rapidly drain through a hole that appeared in the centre of the floor. It took me a while to see it was my Portal. The black and red hole drained the water and began sucking away the slime piles.

I felt utter relief wash over me as a Zone barrier appeared in the tunnel, creating a safe zone in the ex-boss room.

It still smelled like a swamp but at least it was dry.

The portal rumbled and burped.

I wanted to sit down but the ground was still soaking wet and covered in brown gunk. I took out my first gem, the red one, and crushed it.

Well done! You have gained the active skill: Acid Touch. Skill levelled to 2 due to common rarity.

Acid Touch Lv 2: Active Spell. Energy: Create a weak minor acid from your hands. Can be cast or sustained. Cost 1 ENE for cast and 1 ENE every 5 seconds for sustain. Cooldown 10 seconds.

I could see the connection. Acid from the acid-spitting monster. I felt the spell settle with little pain. I was beginning to see that the greater the spell, the more pain I felt as the information settled into my brain.

I cast it and a hazy green liquid coated my fingers and palm. I tried flicking it or waving my hand but the acid clung. So it was a pure contact spell. Despite the limited range, if something grabbed me again... I had an option to make that thing regret it.

The acid didn't last long so I made a note to watch my timing with it or use the sustain on it.

I turned a little too eagerly to the Indigo gem. A new colour.

Indigo gem: G-2

Creates a passive or active ability to navigate, conceal or reveal, track, and harvest among other types of possibilities.

I knew once I got up to the upper tiers of ranks, I might be able to even find a gem tracker kind of ability but I lowered my expectations and hoped for the best as I crushed it.

Well done! You learned the active skill: Primitive Tracker!

Primitive Tracker Lv 1 Mental: Infuse an object smaller than your palm with energy and be able to detect that item on the map within 10 meters. A very faint visual cue will be seen as you look at the item. Cost 10 ENE.

I winced as the pain hit me.

It was an odd skill I saw. A hefty cost and a sad range but I knew these things were... fast to change. If nothing else it would be a good way to track future allies and if I buried them into an enemy who liked to hide...

I'd be a step ahead.

I wonder if Greed had a tracking ability or just knew how to find things? I rolled my shoulders and turned to my last gem. My rare white gem.

"Can white gems become black?" I had to ask.

No. White gems are easily dyed to other colours but black is the absolute mix of all. White can become any other gem but black cannot easily replicate other gems powers. White would be to shore up gaps in power while black would be to manipulate your circumstance to gain a benefit.

I didn't quite get it but I knew once I had a black gem, I'd be able to toy around with its limits. I already knew what I wanted so I crushed the gem and the prompt appeared.

Choose a colour.

"Violet."

The white light was rapidly changed to the colour I requested then vanished.

Well done! You have learned the body change active skill: Frog Skin!

What?

Frog Skin Lv 1. Physical. Active: Turn your skin into a similar build as a frog allowing you to inhale oxygen through your skin, even underwater! Cost 15 ENE. No sustain cost. No revert cost.

I wasn't sure I wanted this exactly. I was hoping for frog leg jump or at worse, a tongue lashing ability.

This just made me breathe underwater and I had no idea what I look like! I hesitated then activated the skill.

I had the oddest sensation of bubbling air along my skin. It was slow, taking its time to stretch out from my body and then down my limbs. My exposed arms turned a mix of green and yellow like I was heavily bruised. I few places became a bit bumpy as I watched. My hands flexed then extra webbing appeared between my hands. I could feel the same thing happening to my toes.

I gingerly touched my face where a slight blur came over my eyes, like a dirty contact lense. I came away with a thin line of mucus between my face and hand.

"Ew..." I groaned.

Then I inhaled and nearly reached cloud nine as my head went light with the pure amount of air I sucked in. My skin had all inhaled at once and I was overwhelmed.

System would like to offer some console. The changes me be controlled or adaptive if levelled up. A human skin appearance with the same ability or with more drastic options like potential toxins you could leak. Please do not feel discouraged on base level 1 version.

I read this slowly as my heart pounded at the sudden rich oxygen I was handing it. I turned the skill off and the changes that took close to three minutes to complete just vanished in a second.

Thank goodness for small favours at least.

Frogskin has reached level 2! Increased natural affinity with form. Less negative effects!

"I barely used the skill!" I said in surprise.

Inhaling dangerous amount of oxygen might have contributed to level.

Ah. Well, that was my gems. Acidy... tracker... frog skin combo.

So that meant I could now evolve Pure Rock with a better mindset and no risks to making a stupid mistake. Thinking it over, the light path seemed okay but I had ways to light an area up and the advanced form of light movement or becoming light wasn't synching with what I had currently.

If nothing else, I could grab many skills with the path of light. The sanitary power to clean and remove dirt had already proved itself and I was actually enjoying the non-combat aspects of the skill.

I picked the path and the window changed.

The cleansing of evil begins with one willing to take on the work. Pure Rock is evolving!

I felt my head ripple with pain and lightheadedness.

It seemed it was just as bad when skills evolved as when I gained them. I had to avoid evolving powerful skills during battle or I'd be too stunned to defend myself.

Pure Rock has evolved into Purity Stone

Purity stone Lv 1. Active spell: Created a stone that causes a meter radius of soft light that cleanses all dirt within the space. Able to remove basic filth and slowly purify water to be drinkable. Slowly reduces fatigue of people within range. Cost 5 ENE.

With my just over three-thirds of my energy recharged, I created one of the new stones. This one was smooth and round.

It was god damn glowing giant pebble. I placed one at my feet and felt... a little warm.

Fatigue being reduced. Fatigue is the combination of physical and mental strain and stress gained over time. While HP and ENE may be full, the human psyche may still wear down causing physical debuffs and strain on the mind. Take care of yourself or System will be upset.

I watched as the brown sludge was neatly removed from existence and within a minute, a perfect circle of clean stone was around me. I grinned.

I'd never had to clean anything again. Blue gems were now the best type ever. I tossed a few rocks in the corner and when making sure I didn't dip too low on energy, created a path back to the tunnel with them.

It was subtle but soon the fragrance of cotton and clean sheets filled the basement. I was testing the time limit and as I just sat there letting my wounds recover, I used the systems clock of real-time to gauge the stones. About ten minutes in, my first stone crumbled. A shame but I bet if they levelled up or even better... evolved again, the stones would be even better! I was idle, I began to test some of my skills.

Acid touch had a neat unlisted effect. It didn't actually become caustic until I wanted it to so I could hold things without worrying about eating it away. I left Frog skin alone for now as the cost and time was a bit bothersome.

The Purity Stone could now be coated in a Flamebrand which had a very odd result.

Combo skill created! Campfire Stone!

Campfire Stone. Combo active: Create a Purity stone that gives of warm heat and increased light radius with a duration of one hour. Cannot be moved once placed. Cooldown: 20 minutes. Cost 7 ENE

I tried that beauty out right away and the increased light was about like a normal flame, sort of ebbing and retracting at odd times. I guessed it now had about 5 metres of light but the last meter was constantly shifting. The cleansing effect remained the same as did the fatigue ability.

I sighed as heat dried my damp clothes.

Corrections, all skills were just the best.

I knew I had to go soon. I was glad to have a clean nice safe zone but I had to get back to the real world to move on. I held the non-mangled part of my poor steel pipe. More like a baton at this point or a club. I thankfully had a one-handed blunt skill so I wasn't out of my depth. I looked back at the boiler where heated mist once pored and saw the tiny round metal door lying nearby.

"Observe," I said and the window prompt came up.

Heavy torn hatch door: Shield/Material. G-1

A torn door with a tiny shatter window. Could have some defensive ability.

I looked for a pipe or some long spear item but the basement walls had long been torn up to expand it for Greed's swamp. I could barely see metal pieces bigger than my own trusty club now.

Well, I'd keep my eyes open. I stood and stretched. The light of my Purity Stone actually making me feel really refreshed. I hadn't noticed how tightly compact I had become or how I was on edge for the last few hours.

I felt like a new man.

Especially when I saw my dirty clothes had been reduced from the blood splattered with Ichor to merely filthy. Even Purity Stones had limits it seemed.

"For now..." I mused excitedly.

I opened my status and decided to wonder where to place my stats.

Spiritual was a little unneeded at this point as I had no spirit abilities. Being in Karakura was going to need the stat sooner or later but I had to avoid falling into the trap that all I saw in the show are the only threats around.

Right now, if I didn't kill the Infection, It didn't matter one way or the other.

I lifted the door and it was damn heavy. I grunted and put a point into physical. I wanted to see what one physical stat did for me. The shield became lighter in a way a shopping back became lighter once you took the milk out. Not much but noticeable. I shrugged, put another one in physical and one into energy.

Playing to my strengths seemed wiser than not.

I saw I had a waiting notification from my first stat point gain.

Due to reaching 10 in physical you have gained a passive ability. Please choose of the two paths you like to gain naturally.

Path of the immovable or the path of the untouchable.

"Uh..." I trailed off. The box shifted.

System's elegance is wasted. Do you wish to be harder to harm or harder to catch?

I nodded slowly.

Did I want to be the speedster like 70% of Bleach or the tank like the 30%?

Hm...

It would be harder to be both but I could work on that. I decided to tank it for now. I had a flipping shield. A fast shield was just not as good as a solid shield in most cases.

Path of the immovable chosen!

Health modifier changes from x3 to x5. You now have 55 HP instead of 33.

Skin of the troll lv 1. Passive: Physical attacks on you suffer reduced damage. Your mass is increased to be 5% heavier.

I flexed and didn't feel too different in any bad way.

However, I did feel like I just had a spa and ten healthy smoothies. I felt damn healthy! I hefted my shield and club, banging them together with a grin.

It was time to go on a crusade against a boss.

The roof access was before me. The way up was deathly silent. I had a feeling that there were no more foes to be found on the lower floors. Everything had gathered beyond the door.

The rooftop doorway was not a simple metal thing. It was like someone mixed up the props in a play and put a heavy black wooden door with silver metal bands instead of a modern door. The thing gave off a chilly aura. I had used acid touch to remove a section of stair railing that was similar to my old steel pipe.

I took about five minutes of sustain casting to melt cleanly through but I now had a backup weapon just in case. Acid Touch was quick to level due to that. It had a stronger acid but that was about it. I gathered myself and pushed the door open.

The roof was enormous.

An open arena of sorts with flimsy chain fences to keep people from falling off, some just had small barriers. The sky above was pure black except for the red moon.

I felt unseen things in that Darkness. Things I ignored for my sanity. They were gathered to watch, like an audience to an amusing game.

My foes to be was on the far side, appropriately enough.

If I had to sum of the hospital in one form. I guessed it would look like the being before me.

A long ragged cloak shifted along the ground as the monster stared at the moon. It turned slowly and the long plague doctor's mask had glowing pale blue flames in the sockets. The front of the clock showed a black ribcage that leaked a pus-like black substance that stank even from this distance. It drifted slowly and looking at it made me just not want to care.

It was easy to ignore but the creature it radiated slothiness to a tangible aura.

I Observed it while it was content to lazily watch me.

Sloth Plague-Giver Doctor: Boss. G-3

The infected apathy of the hospital given form. It is content to watch the world fall to pieces and do nothing to further itself. It is an affront to the System. Please remove it.

I ignited my shield and stood in the abyss like a burning beacon. It moved forward, floating like it really couldn't care.

I had no idea if could fly or just float but I was going to avoid letting this piece of work touch me where I could.

"You're making Director Mori look bad, poor guy doesn't deserve to be linked with this," I announced and the thing twitched. A reaction or just didn't like sound?

I readied myself.

"Any words before we begin?" I asked. The thing actually seemed to think about it.

"Smoking is not permitted on grounds. Not that I care," it admitted and was suddenly a black and blue blur as it raced towards me, sloth aura now clashing with the rising killing intent to kill me. I Retraced as the Doctor brought down an odd black staff with a single skeletal snake that was lazily clinging to the metal in a spiral. The ground cracked slightly and black sludge spread from the contact.

"What happened to 'Do No Harm'?" I asked dryly, hiding the fact that my heart was hammering.

"Too much effort. Killing is easier."

Well, it was consistent at least.

Last edited: Aug 8, 2019

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

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Stewart92

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Threadmarks 12: Malice Zone

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Stewart92

Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 10, 2019

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#329

For a creature of sloth, this grim reaper knock-off was fast. I moved to avoid another staff swing as it collided with the door behind me. The door shrieked as it bent and the thick black ooze seeped into the frame and dents.

I think my escape might have just gotten a bit trickier as the door now looked like it wouldn't open with that gunk all over it. I threw a Purity Stone at it before running. With any luck, the stone would clean the sludge off and help me get out if I needed it.

I didn't hear the cloak moving so I turned, keeping my flaming shield high as the Doctor turned slowly from the door. He seemed to have looked at Purity Stone rather than chase me. He grunted, moving slightly away like he smelled something bad.

Did... he not like the stone?

Well, he was a sludge leaking skeleton in a tattered cloak. I had to assume nice cleaning stones were not his go-to decor.

I grinned, sliding my metal club into a pocket as I held another Purity Stone. I embraced it in Flamebrand but prevented the combo spell from forming, like blocking off a stream with my intent.

I wanted hurty firestone, not a nice warm stone.

My Purity Stone ignited and the blazing stone caught the Doctor's attention. I Discarded it and the damn thing streaked like a comet. The trail of minty freshness and heat was pleasing to me. Not so much to the Doctor. It impacted his arm holding the staff and the cloak fell off the bone, falling to the ground. I saw now that it wasn't fabric or some old uniform but a coat of sludge. A noise like a screeching rat came from the Doctor's mouth.

The stone had buried itself in the bone but it was easily dislodged and destroyed with the staff it carried. I put another stone in my pocket.

I'd love to just rain fire down on the thing but... my Energy was only 35 and a Purity Stone cost 5 on its own.

I would need to get close and do my best to deal damage and use my energy wisely. With 7 energy regen a minute I had to play it a bit safer. I made sure to hold my shield forward and took out my metal club again.

Until Flamebrand levelled up, I could only do one item at a time. I rather the giant shield than my weapon because it just have more surface area. The Doctor's sludge was trying to recreate the sleeve but he was watching me approach. He pointed his staff and the snake flew out like a bone whip. I pushed to the side and the glowing fangs buried themselves into the ground. It had been aiming for my feet! That reaper wasn't stupid enough to attack a fire shield head-on.

The whip retracted but I smashed down head with my shield, trapping it. The thing writhed but I wasn't done. I grabbed the spiky spine, it was gleaming bone white. I watched as the reaper began to yank back and my entire body began to be dragged forward. I had a feeling if the snakehead was loose, it would attack me independently. Being ganged up on was bad.

No time for witty remarks it seemed. I turned on Acid Touch and instantly the bone began to give off a smoking stench. The Doctor gave another harsh yank and the damaged snake spine snapped loudly.

A headless whip flew back and I lifted the shield to see the bone head whipping and writhing before it went still, breaking apart into a sludge puddle.

"Troublesome. Killing you is becoming more trouble than it's worth." the Doctor sighed.

"Feel free to lay down and let me kill you. Then you get the endless sleep and naps," I offered. The Doctor shook his head.

"No. I just need to end this now," he disagreed. He pointed his broken staff to the black sky. His cloak shifted to covered his bones and face.

Oh, that was a boss move. I knew enough about battle talk to know where this was going.

"Herald of filth, seeker of rot. Five eyeless ravens peck at this world for fat maggots-" the reaper began and the air around me began to shudder. I Discarded my spare Purity Stone at it and the sludge coat spat out a blob of slime to meet it halfway.

Oh, I did not like it when the enemy used cheap tactics like me. My Purity Stone won but it had lost its momentum, clattering before it reached the Doctor.

"-The carcass of the sinful will feed the rotting fruit of the guilty. Life flees and death decays-" The chanting went on and the shaking got worse. I thought furiously as I tossed pebbles on fire. The fire didn't seem to do much to the watery pus sludge other than surface damage.

I had my hand forming another Purity Stone when the sludge bubbled.

"From the corpse of a god, the sickly blood will wash away the threads of life! Infection art 14: Cesspool wave!"

The bubbles exploded as a literal wave of brown, black, and floating rotting meat rushed to swallow me. The wave flowed from the Doctor's sludge and pooled over the edge of the building as it gained speed and volume as it rushed to meet me. It rose like a tidal wave

I slammed my flaming shield down, angling it slightly up and spent every last drop on Purity Stones. I got three more on top of my existing one. The overlapping rings of cleansing surrounded me.

The wave hit and my shield hissed and spat as my skill fought on. My overlapping purity stones worked together and pieces of meat vanished and the waves parted around me like I was a rock in the river.

I was still pushed forcefully back towards the edge of the building where the yawning abyss below looked eager to swallow me.

The stench was like nothing I had ever smelled. I threw up a little which my stones easily took care of. I was close to my regen and so I struggled to create another stone for my pile. The stone edge seemed to give me the edge I needed and some of the water nearby even looked passable as river water rather than sewage.

I felt myself give another inch towards the edge. I eyed my remaining two Energy and saw the last wave emerge from the slime cloak. Thicker and higher than any other.

I saw the Doctor ride it like a phantom on a tide of darkness. It was looking like he intended to wash me away into the abyss below.

It was then that I had a terrible idea. I hoped the wording of my skills were absolute or I was about to kill myself. I put my shield and stones away. I turned and the short distance to the edge where the fencing had been broken apart from the attack. I had to time this just right...

I slowed for a heartbeat, seeing the shadow of the wave fast approaching.

1... 2... 3...4!

I jumped off the building and the wave tried to follow me but quickly vanished down the side of the building. Distracted by my jump to death, the Doctor barely managed to stab the end of his staff into the rooftop edge where he dangled.

I Retraced, the feeling of rushing air moving me back to just before I jumped and stood above him.

"Good news, it only counts actual steps I've taken for Retracing!" I announced and the visibly smaller skeleton looked up at me with a blank stare.

"Cutting corners is nice," he finally agreed. I leaned down.

"That was a pretty sweet attack, shame about the smell," I said and put a hand on the staff. The Doctor gave me a skeleton grin.

"Can't smell if you don't have a nose. I'm going to go... nap for a while. Later... or not," he sighed and just let go of the staff, falling away.

I stood there with the broken staff, the weapon breaking apart even as I held it.

"Damn... I wanted to say something cool before it ended," I grunted.

A box appeared at my side.

Congratulations! You have conquered the Malice Zone! Retrieving gems from boss!

I looked up as 2 white crystals and a yellow appeared over the edge in glowing bubbles.

Sloth Plaguer Doctor defeated! Earned 150 EXP!

"That's way more than Greed!" I said in shock.

Bosses should be worth more or what's the point?

I didn't have an argument for that.

As a boss reward, you may choose out of the following three on which Malice Zone Clear Reward you would like!

G-3 Gem of any colour but black or white.

Purified Cape of Cleaning: A cape that increases cleaning effects, light effect, and is rather dapper.

Infection Art 1: Inflamed wound: Strikes a foe which causes a weak infection to enter the enemy and cause discomfort.

I ignored the gem reward as I had little effort finding them in Malice zones and higher ones would be available sooner or later. After smelling Infection 14... I had little desire for that kind of spell tree.

Which left me with the cape!

I selected it and a long flowing that reached below my back appeared. It was soft and smelled like it was fresh out of laundry pile that had been cleaned in lemon and holy water. It was clasped easily to my shirt with two bronze pins.

I swished it.

As I did, the smell of cotton and lemon filled the air. I grinned, turning to my other notifications when the whole building shook violently. The moon above cracked like a piece of glass. I stumbled forward, stuffed the gems into my inventory and a piece of the roof fell away. I turned to run to the door and more pieces began to fall inwards. My stairway down just broke off and tumbled out of sight.

"Ah help?" I asked then the whole roof just gave and I was falling into the waiting darkness below. I screamed as I saw things down there.

A blur of red and my Portal slithered past rubble and metal to be directly below me.

It opened wide and I fell through.

I felt squeezed and then I rolled to a stop on the dusty ground.

"Ow..." I moaned.

Welcome back, Russel. System hope you enjoyed your first zone!

I looked up at the floating box before looking back to see the Portal collapsing and vanishing.

"Is it going to be okay?" I asked instantly, worried about my saviour.

Yes. Portal will appear where Malice Zones are. So System suspects you shall see it soon.

I nodded slowly. Shame, having a handy portal about would have been nice. I groaned and stood, digging rocks out my clothes and shaking the dust off. I was cleaning than I expected until I remembered I had about 4 stones in my pocket. Where I stood, the road was looking like someone had taken a power hose to it.

I just sat down on the curb and inhaled as I looked up to see stars. The night was well on its way now. It was good for my soul to see stars and not endless darkness. Little dots of light to keep the darkness away. Stars were awesome.

I inhaled again and body began to shake as my adrenaline ran out and my body began to shudder at the things I had just done. To distract myself, I pulled up waiting notifications.

Malice Zone cleared! Location 'Quiet Mesa Hospital' now has a Malice level of below 2%. All spirits and sensitives will find the area more peaceful. More likely to find helpful magical creatures here. More likely to conduct spells and rituals needing a purified area more successfully here.

Quest: Horror Movie Extra: Going into the clearly haunted hospital like a white teen girl in a horror movie and hope you don't die! Reward: 100 EXP. 1 Stat point. A place of refuge! Completed!

Retrace has reached level 3! The cost has been decreased by 1.

Purity Stone has reached level 2! Increased cleaning effect.

Discard has reached level 4! Increased damage. 1 level until skill evolves!

Flamebrand has reached level 5! Increased fire damage. Skill is ready to evolve!

Acid Touch has reached level 5! Increased Acid Damage. Skill is ready to evolve!

Small Projectile throwing has reached level 7! 3 levels until skill evolves!

Fire Affinity has reached level 4!

Did some ask for a power level? Because that was a power level. I grinned like a lunatic at the messages. So much growth and I barely cleared level 2.

I decided to evolve my skills one at a time to be safe.

Firebrand evolution: Please choose the desired path for skill to excel at.

Path of Arsenal: Be able to firebrand many items at once.

Path of Arson: A single focus target but the damage output is massive increased.

Pondering that I also turned to Acid Touch.

Acid Touch evolution: Please choose the desired path for the skill to excel at.

Path of Distance: Created the ability hit from afar with acid.

Path of Destruction: Remain contact only but gain more power.

Interesting. I knew I had to choose but I remembered my lesson from the System before and pulled out my gems. I held the two whites and yellow.

All of them were G-2 ranked.

Gems may be used to increase existing skill level or empower current items if rank is similar. Ranks show how many gems may be used. G rank items and such may only be buffed once by a gem.

I nodded at the System slowly.

"How much can a yellow gem make for money?" I asked.

Yellow gems make the equivalent of $50 per rank in the G ranks. So a G-2 could make $100. F rank goes up in the hundreds, E rank goes up by 1000 in each rank and so forth.

The issue was that I didn't know exactly what I needed in the long run. Money was always helpful but if I could ask for an item worth more than $100 for G-2 then I get my worth out of it.

A man needs food, shelter, medicine, and company for a functioning mind in the general populace. I just had to find another Malice zone for more Yellow gems so it wasn't like this was the end of the world.

It would be nice to sit down somewhere and enjoy a meal... sure, it wasn't the more min-maxing use of it but I was a person. I couldn't ignore the imperfections of wanting to have good food and not eat in the woods like an animal.

I converted the stone to money and it appeared in my inventory. The Yen exchange rate offered was stated.

System will convert value based on the local exchange rate.

Now I turned eagerly to my two glinting gems.

Oh, the possibilities.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 13: Antics

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 10, 2019

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#344

I chose another blue and orange.

The good ole Aperture Portal colour scheme. I crushed the blue one first and it vanished in a puff of fading sand.

Well done! You have learned the skill: Summon Ant!

Summon Ant. Creation Spell. Active: Create a single ant within a meter of yourself. Current size: Average earth red ant. Increase of skill will increase properties and control over summon. Cost 2 Energy permanently until ant is defeated or banished.

I was a bit... not impressed if I was being honest.

I tried it out and despite my let down of the skill, I was amused to see a slight poof of white smoke as a single little ant appeared. I felt a slight itch in my awareness. The ant didn't move. It was a little ant so red it was almost black.

I observed it.

Summoned Red Ant. Summoned by Russel. A tiny insect that is made up of energy. Does not need food or sleep.

Again it was a bit weedy but-

Summon Ant has reached level 2! Increased mass and control

Before my eyes, the ant swelled to be a bit more in line an average ant.

"Oh that was fast," I muttered. The itch I had felt a bit more... open? I felt the ant a bit clearer.

"Come here?" I tried and the thing just moved towards me. I tested moving it in directions before it brought me a leaf.

Summon Ant skill has reached level 3! Increase size and mental ability.

It was now shedding a shell as it reached a new size of a mouse. I had never seen an insect that big and it was a little odd but still, I was growing attached to the little guy! I picked him up and he was calm as I carried him into the hospital beyond.

"So if we're going to be together I need to name you. I mean right now you're just a little guy but at this rate, you're going to be big enough to ride if I grind the skill enough!" I said cheerfully. The inside was similar to a degree of the Malice zone. No evil material or viruses thankfully. Just a lot of graffiti and damage.

"Hm how about King? Most ant things have a leader right?" I suggested.

Ant has been named King. Skill renamed.

Summon King is now available.

Nice. I sat down beside the reception desk, out of sight of the main entrance as I put King down.

"So, you can go eat or sleep or whatever ants do," I suggested kindly. The ant paused then vanished into a crack in the wall. I felt a minor pang of worry but after a moment I could still sense the little guy.

He seemed to be fine for the moment.

Basic spider defeated! You need to kill 9 more for 1 EXP due to Strength difference.

I stared then looked at the crack King had gone into. He appeared and dropped a chomped spider at my feet, staring up at me with waiting eyes.

"I'm full thanks, you can eat it," I said after a moment. King did so and...

Energy feedback from King. Too small to make up a point on its own. Reduced Energy regen time by 0.06 nanoseconds.

King was the best little guy.

"Go kill more but don't be afraid to come back and rest!" I prompted. King turned without a word.

Summon King has reached level 4! Increased mental ability and power.

No size boost but he chomped and dug the crack into a round tunnel hole within seconds to get to the dark space on the other side.

I was beginning to understand the Mental thing let me sense and locate King a lot easier. I bet if my own Mental was higher we might be able to share senses or something. I placed some Purity Rocks around me and asked the System to only let me know if King killed something worth more than 1 EXP or if he perished.

I was impressed when one of my stones actually began to peel ancient graffiti off the walls somewhat.

I pulled my new cape around me and smiled. Everything was looking up. I still had the sense of something watching me which I assumed was the Demi-Hollow but it didn't seem angry anymore. Maybe confused but it felt peaceful in the building now.

No Malice, no negative vibes.

I pulled out my orange stone and crushed it.

Well done! You have learned the spell: Holy Glint!

Holy Glint. Buff Spell. Active: The caster gives off a weak light of holy energy. Improves holy abilities used within a meter. Weakens demonic or unholy attacks within range. Cost 5 Ene. Last 10 minutes.

Hm... I didn't have holy energy attacks but I knew that skills could combo so the buff itself could merge later to give me one. I cast it and my body faintly began to give off a yellowish light. Nice...

If nothing else, it could work as a very weak light if I didn't want to hold a stone. Perhaps in response to my new light, the feeling of being watched suddenly vanished and a painful moan came from the walls. My cape seemed to give off more light than my body so I held it up to reveal I still couldn't see anything.

Holy Glint has reached level 2! Increase range.

Summon King has reached level 5! Increased mass and mental ability. 3 levels until skill evolves!

I saw a wriggling ant leg now stuck out the ceiling as King tried to adjust for his new size.

"Doing good... buddy," I cheered weakly on. I opened my two waiting skills and pondered them before nodding.

I knew what I wanted, based on how I've been operating so far and now trying to fit King into things...

I knew I wanted Acid Touch to remain contact only for now.

Acid Touch is evolving! Subpath will be absorbed.

Acid Touch has become Acid Cloak!

Acid Cloak. Active. Lv 1: Coat your body in a strong acid! Higher levels make this more dangerous and may extend outwards from your body. Only affects conscious threats. Cost 6 ENE. Last 10 seconds. Sustain cost: 5 ENE every ten seconds.

"What if I wanted to burn a door open?" I asked, hoping I didn't need to see a door as a threat.

Conscious effort may control targeting.

A new flash appeared.

King has killed enough foes to award 1 EXP. Praise his diligent efforts!

"All hail the king, baby," I grinned. I looked to my last skill that would shape my fighting style.

Did I want one superweapon or did I want flexible overall use? Flamebrand would absorb the lesser path but... I had to choose something now. In the end... I wanted to be able to use my fire in a way that couple with my tank choice. If I was covered in fire that would be more spots my foes would have to consider rather than just dodging my attack.

I was in it for the long haul in a fight so I needed the ability to be more flexible.

I chose Arsenal and the screen paused for a moment. My head suddenly felt like an axe had been driven into it. Blinding pain made me wince until it rapidly faded.

Flamebrand has evolved into Pyro Infusion.

Pyro Infusion Active spell: Infused three pieces of equipment or items with your burning fire. You may layer three charges on one item for triple effect. Each charge takes 10 seconds to recharge. Cost 5 ENE and 1 ENE sustain per item every minute.

I grimaced at the pain but I whistled at the skill. Three fire items or a decent combo item. I bet the path of Arson would have still had more power than a triple-layered item but everything had a price.

I was... exhausted. I drank some water and ate another snack bar before I decided to wait until daylight. I could assign my new stat point then. I pulled out a rolled-up new sleeping bag and created a Purity Stone for a night light.

Behind the receptionist desk was now looking clean if not still a little destroyed. It was clean at least and I felt the sleeping bag getting worked over to remove that 'new feeling'. I yawned, said goodnight to King who decided to take up a guard before me. He was the size of a rat now and kinda cute if you ignored the snappy mandibles and compact eyes. He was actually marching back and forth like a soldier on patrol.

I didn't remember falling asleep.

I woke up to a pile beetles, spiders, and a single dead rat inches from my face. I screeched as notifications bombarded me.

King has reached level 6...7...8! Max Level. Size increased. Mental increased. Power increased. One skill slot has been unlocked for surpassing level 5!

You have gained 15 EXP! 3 EXP left to level!

You feel rested. You feel distressed.

I turned to look at the once small tunnel and my mouth dropped open at the crawl space now present. A dark round tunnel that I could crawl through. It was still hidden by the receptionist desk but holy crap...

My words from last night came back to me.

`So, you can go eat or sleep or whatever ants do.'

Whatever… ants do. I stretched my awareness out and found King way below. I had the sense of... purpose? I decided to risk it and crawl into the tunnel with a Purity Stone. The slope was gentle enough and King had dug right through into a storage room for cabinet files. One of which was moving.

King walked past with it, showing no stress at the action and used it to finish is almost perfect Tetris style barricade at the only door in and out. King was the size of a small dog or a big cat. I stared as he stopped, turned and eyed me.

He went over to a corner and came back with another dead rat, dropped it at my feet, and carried on working.

"Any reason you tunnelled here and decided to redecorate?" I asked. The reply in my head wasn't words or emotions but simply... purpose.

System would like to have warned you that previous orders carry over for most summons, even if Russel is asleep. System managed to change the desire to leave the hospital to find 'bigger' food and focus on digging. Please be more wary of giving non-thinking creatures orders.

"How far can he go from me?" I asked in surprise.

Distance is usually ten meters per ranks. So 80 meters in a radius. Once skill evolves and hits Rank F, that distance continues to grow.

"Thanks, didn't want to wake up to find a dead jogger in my face," I mumbled. I turned to King.

"King? You are not to harm a human being unless I give you the order or instructions otherwise, okay?" I said and the ant looked at me.

I had the odd feeling of a green leaf popping into my head. The ant tilted his head.

"No, that's a leaf," I said and the image changed to a spider.

"No, that's a spider-"

A rat appeared.

"I'm a human!" I said suddenly and the ant looked unsure.

System suggests applying a skill and evolving the ant. Intelligence may be increased. One would hope.

"Sure, so what's this skill slot and how does it affect King?" I rubbed my face.

Certain creation or other skills may hit levels where additional abilities are added in. These are usually unrelated to the core skills and can drastically mutate the skill.

A select choice of skills have been found for King.

Please choose one!

Acid Ant: Gain acid element from Summoner.

Hunter Ant: Detect life and regeneration effect from feasting on blood. Increased aggression.

Purity Ant: Crushed Purity Stone is now in blood of ant. Lowers combat abilities and prevents exp from feeding.

"Why does the acid ant not have any drawbacks?" I said frowning.

It is an Acid Ant. Most people would see that as an issue on structure, ecological, and sanity reasons.

"...is it made of acid or spit acid?" I said finally.

Produces acid. System supposes a well-trained ant would not kill you by accident...

Assuring as that was. I guessed that whatever path I choose now would affect the pending evolution of the skill. Bloodthirsty vampire ant was out. I thought about the acid but at this stage, it just didn't need acid to dig and such.

Shrugging, I choose Purity. King glowed as his skin cracked revealing a gleaming white carapace and legs. His compact eyes looked around and I could feel a shift in the ant's mind.

Purity Ant: An ant blessed with the power to cleanse and clear dangerous chemicals. Made by Russel Rivers. Purity Ant digs faster due to natural dirt removal. Purity Ant can feed on Purity Stones for a temporary boost. Purity Ant give off the same aura as a Purity stone. Added to 'Summon King.'

Unique ability gained: Purity Stone production. Produce one Purity Stone every 10 minutes. Last 5 mins.

Would you like to evolve Summon King?

I was staring as the Ant now went around disposing of dirt piles and seeking out the cobweb in the corner.

"Uh sure..." I said.

Summon King is ready to evolve. Please choose desired path.

Path of Quantity: Summon three ants (including King) with the same abilities. Their unique ability remains the same.

Path of Quality: Focus the power into King and his Purity Stones will always reflect the strength of your own skill.

I liked King, he did a wicked job so I knew he deserved the lion's share of the reward.

I picked Quality.

King blinked out of existence as the skill manually sent him back as it evolved.

Summon Ant(king) has evolved to Summon Ant Lion(King)!

Summon Ant Lion (King): Active Spell: Summon a mutated monster Ant Lion. This Purity Ant Lion has the ability to hide, dig, trap, and contains the beginning of unknown magic. Cost 5 ENE until banished or defeated.

I summoned King and the first thing I noticed was the sharper mental connection and the head had thorny pincers with the same kind of eyes. The area around the head now had about a dozen prickly dozen ant hairs that formed together into an actual mane. It shook the white hair and it moved vaguely the same as hair. The ant still mainly resembled the same shape as an ant if you took in the more thorny legs and thicker body.

It was the size of a big dog now and the thorax looked wider and flatter than before. It titled his head and went on with his previous task of digging and sorting the dirt.

It had a clear image of many interlocking chambers and the idea of myself at the most protected to produce young.

I blinked for a long time.

King thought I was his Queen.

"I don't make young," I protested. King turned slowly and tilted his head.

I got a sort of an odd static noise and the impression of a broken crown.

"No. I'm not defective," I said sourly. The ant came up and nudged me with affection. His intent clear. Instead of young, King now saw me in a throne room with many ants he had 'found'.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for kids!" I argued. This threw King for a moment.

He tentatively offered an image of a grand series of chambers with me and himself just enjoying the security. I nodded, a little more into that.

"Sure! That's fine. Just no kids or finding me kids," I said quickly. King nodded eagerly and dug into his work with renewed energy.

System will send flowers for ant babies of Russels. Please name one after System.

"Bite me," I scowled.

System does not wish to know what happens between Russel and his many ant concubines.

I felt my headache throb a little and wondered if I could just go back to sleep but decided I owed Director Mori a favour before that.

It was time to see if I could help his brat of a son move on.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 14: Curiosity killed the...

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Stewart92

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 11, 2019

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#402

I whistled as I walked through the abandoned hallways. In the daylight, the tiles and chipped walls looked tired and weary. Compared to the oppressive aura from last night, it was interesting. From the windows, I spotted another cheerful day on its way. The soft light floating into the building helped me feel assured that the Beings in the Abyss weren't around.

I was glad I didn't dream of them.

The hospital was pretty much secluded unless you got lost or were heading here on purpose so I didn't exactly worry about being spotted as I climbed higher and higher to the room I had been searching for.

A casual use of Observe let me know I had it right.

Sealed door to Direction Mori's Office. The previous director of Quiet Mesa Hospital. Status: Flimsy.

I gave the knob a twist but it was stuck tight with a lock and a thin strand of faded yellow tape. Having little desire to kick a door in, I put my hand on the wood above the knob and let Acid Cloak turn on for the first time.

A thin green hazy appeared over my hands and clothes. I experimented by taking off a shoe and once it stopped touching my body, the green haze vanished on it.

Neat. I wonder if I could do an Acid Whip with a chain? I focused on the wood and smoke began to build as the green liquid splashed down the door and ate through the rusty locking mechanism. I nudged the door open as I turned the cloak off.

Even the acid that had clung to the door vanished at the same time. No lingering effects it seemed. The office before me was a faded memory of the room I had talked with Mori in. Some changes had been made but not much. I looked at the mould covered armchair the man seemed to have liked so much.

Despite the Malice Clearing, I felt this room had a certain lingering chill to it. This must be the last '2%' must be lingering. What was it Greed had said?

His father just dumped this all on him?

I highly doubted that was the entire version, as true as it might have felt to Greed. But the quickest way to get answers was to talk to the guy himself. Which meant I might need to work on the whole Spirit Sensing skill.

I barely met an echo of one but it was enough to get me started.

I sat in the middle of the floor and closed my eyes. I breathed in and out. Chained Spirits that often hid in the building or earth were missed by Reapers as they couldn't be detected. Unlike a lot of spirits, the long someone was chained, the angrier they became.

So, I just had to find that source. If I couldn't get it on my own? Then I have to piss the thing off.

I did my best to reach out with my senses but I just got the same dark vibe to the room that felt very monotone in feeling. I wondered if the spirit was hiding from me? I did do some weird shit like summon an ant and glow.

I supposed that might even freak a ghost out.

20 minutes later, after no luck and no decent skill upgrades. I blew out a sigh.

"You know, when your Dad said you drove this place into the ground, I didn't think he meant also clinging it to it like a demented sea captain as you went under as well," I said and did the room just get colder?

I did have a spare stat point but I would only use it on Spiritual if I couldn't do this any other way.

"What you even going to do now? You can't own money or sell the place, you're dead," I continued and I was feeling a slight odd prickle on my face. I wondered if he was right in front of me screaming.

I focused on that feeling. I did my best to feel how it impacted me... the direction...

Spiritual Sense has reached level 3!

The room's temperature dropped and it felt like I was being pressed in from all sides. Still, nothing I could see. I frowned and looked around.

"Did something go wrong? Did you get bad advice? Did you steal the money-" I asked and there was a faint sound, like a faint echo.

The rattling of chains.

Spiritual Sense has reached level 4!

I saw a shadow. It moved like a blur and angry wind blew past my ears. The image flickered and it strained my eyes to look too long at it. I mentally tried to fell Spirit Sensing and felt it was maybe ten percent full in the levelling up progress.

It wasn't a perfect estimate but close enough.

Okay, this was taking a tad bit too long.

I frowned and reached for that same blueish feeling I got off the ghost and looked within myself for that energy.

It was pitifully small but I did find it! I tugged and pushed on it. I felt a slight flare that didn't even breach my skin.

Spiritual Pressure unlocked.

SP: Ability to channel the spirit and soul to affect the world around you.

Now that was better. I tried moving my pool of 40 SP around and seeing what I could do. It was much harder to hold than the Energy I was used to working within my journey so far. It felt like wispy water that simply did not want to leave the body or go in any one direction.

Annoying.

Let's see... Reapers used pressure, long chant spells, fast movement, hard skin, and bullshit swords. Hollows used... well laser beams and more animalistic weapons until you got to Arrancar. But besides that, it was pretty much the same.

Fullbringers used items of pride and Quincies used tools.

Not much for me to really go on.

I pulled out a pebble and tried to fill it with my SP. Nothing happened at first but it did sort of began to flicker with a pale white aura.

I flicked the stone and it didn't do much. The blue glow flickered as it hit the far wall.

Was... that supposed to do something? I tilted my head as the system decided it did.

Bland Spiritual Infusion. Active: Infuse an object with greater spirit particles than surrounding objects. Allows an item to interact with a spirit. Lasts one hit. Cost 10 SP.

It wasn't like passive physical abilities. Active ones didn't seem to net me those sweet passive buffs. I needed a spiritual exercise. Something that would let me flex my soul so to speak.

I really had no idea what that migh-

I pursed my lips.

It should have occurred to me.

I left the room and went to my new 'Ant Chamber' by the receptionist desk. I needed peace for this and the Demi-Hollow breathing down my neck wouldn't be helping. I blinked as the room seemed bright. King touched two feels together and a Purity Stone grew as it gathered in Energy from his body. The ant dropped the stone near a pile of dirt.

I saw another tunnel ahead already being cleared out. The room this once had been very different. The soft flat earth had been neatly arranged and all corners of the room had been smoothed out to make a domed shaped.

A single raised platform had my sleeping bag on it.

It smelled earthy, clean, and refreshing despite there was no airflow down here...

I decided to leave King to his work and tried my best to gather myself on the platform. I inhaled and tried to detach myself from the physical world. I remembered a dozen cheesy self-help books about anxiety and stress. I called upon them now.

I breathed, holding it for some time. I counted then inhaled again. Focusing only on the breathe I held. I imagined a relaxing sensation starting at my toes. I was aware of them. I spent some time feeling each of my toes. When I was ready I imagined that relaxing flow travelling up my legs, each muscle becoming consciously away in my mind.

Inhaled and exhaled.

Soon my whole body was under this conscious wave of awareness.

Each thought coming into my head, I noticed them and then pushed them away. Time was not important... pain and worry were becoming distant, I felt at complete ease as I knew only my breathing.

Distracting ideas almost made me lose the state but I pushed them away and only knew...

Breathing.

In this blackness of in and out... I felt an undercurrent of myself. I lively pulsing sense that mingled with a wispy ethereal stream. The flowed through my bones, muscles, and blood.

Well done! You have gained Meditation!

Meditation. Passive: Release stress and centre your mind. Become in synch with your soul. Allows enhanced relaxation methods and may allow deeper soul searching later. Every 10 levels grants 1 Spiritual Stat!

I lost my trance as the words blazed before me.

Good news that I got a stat giving skill. The bad news was that I didn't get a regen ability to go with it. I might need to massively improve it...

I looked between my two options. Hm...

I assigned my new stat to Spiritual. Another few EXP and I level anyway so it wasn't a big deal.

King has risen the tunnel's sanitary levels to above 90%. 1 EXP rewarded.

I walked over to the tunnel and bent down.

"King, if you find anything besides dirt and bad chemicals, put them here. All the nice pebbles you can find!" I called down and I got an answering positive pulse back from King. If he was going to go digging, he might as well stockpile ammo.

I sat down and gathered myself. I focused on the pebble, infusing it and trying to centre myself as the energy flowed.

It was... not easy.

"I'm telling you that it feels different."

"But the Demi-Hollow is still present?" Kiskue Urahara asked lightly, his white paper fan moving slowly back and forward. The cat at his side sighed.

"I saw it howled in annoyance but yes. I got odd scents around the place but I watched the place all night and no one was there. I left before the sun rose so... perhaps there might be more clues?" Yoruichi mused.

"Or it could be a deliberate trap. We shall... watch from a distance. My trackers are able to get a basic feel of the location. IF... someone appears, we'll act. I can't very well lay traps where people might go. It might also be a distraction," the man hummed.

"All these four steps sideways and not a one forward," the cat said sternly.

"It is how it is. We act too soon and we play our hands. The world is an odd place. It might have nothing to do with us or it might. But if it feels more pleasant. We have a few options. We have an exorcist roaming. I salute the man of the cloth or the woman with the beads. If it is our local Quincies..." he trailed off.

"It is not. Those prideful scions do little to seek Hollows. The child is growing impatient however," Yoruichi warned as she licked her milk.

"The reaper shift change won't be for some time. The current one is... actually a funny guy but his shift is supposed to end in about 3. No four months if the routine hasn't changed," Urahara mused aloud.

"You know they haven't. Soul Society changes as much as the sun rises backwards," Yoruichi shook her head.

"Our current 'protector' of the town is a bit of a... I doubt it was him, in any case. Just got to keep our eyes open and her swords close," Urahara finished his tea.

The cat flicked her tail.

"Things are moving, Kisuke," she warned and left the front porch, vanishing around the corner.

"They always have been... they're just stepping into the light now," he replied darkly.

He finished his tea in silence.

Meditation has reached level 4! Increased ease and awareness!

Bland Spiritual Infusion has reached level 5! Increased density and control. Skill will evolve in 5 levels.

Spiritual Sense has reached level 4! Increased range.

I stood and stretched. I felt pretty good and loose. I looked down at the pile of pens, chunks of rocks and a smaller pile of 3 pebbles. King had been busy! I pocketed the loot into my inventory and decided to see if my new spirit senses would tingle a bit better now.

I retraced my steps, finding the sun had moved a lot... it looked to be afternoon now.

"How long was I meditating?" I mumbled.

4 hours and 32 minutes.

Yeah... doing that one the battlefield was going to suck even if it did have an energy regen later. Ah well, I retraced myself back to the Director's room and I felt the ghost. It was like a movement in the corner of my eyes.

I turned and the image faded but then came the whispering.

"Mine... make… re, bud?!"

"Are you Director Mori's son?" I called and the shadow moved to my face.

"I AM- CTOR MORI! TH- NE THAT MATT-" came broken yelling. It was right next to my damn ear. I focused on that, trying to let my body adapt to the odd sound that didn't travel in the physical world.

Spiritual Sensing has reached level 5. Improved visual sight.

I blinked once and before me appeared a bloodshot eyed screaming man, his face contorted in rage. He reminded of a fast food manager given an inch of power and gone mad on the new employee that had been only hired a week before himself.

It was a face I wanted to punch.

"Mine! MY HOSP- MY MONEY!" he growled at me. I infused my fists and punched him.

My hand didn't have much impact but it was enough to make his eyes bulge. I had a horrible reminder to a certain frog.

A cheap haircut and an ugly purple sweater. This was Mori's son? I felt sorry for the sharply dressed man who thought this slacker was enough to run a hospital

"Shut. Up," I warned. He bared his teeth and his chain rattled. A hole slowly opening behind where the chain connected to his body was about a quarter revealed.

"You hit me!" he yelled as if trying to summon some security or make a scene.

Spiritual Sensing has reached level 6! Max level to be gained from current spirit training.

Great, he wasn't even going to level my skill that much anymore either.

"What are you even doing here?" I demanded. He looked pissed off and those bulging eyes made me just want to hit him again.

"What its it to you, bud?! This is my hospital! It's mine! It's going to make me rich!" he swung at me and he passed through me. He snarled and kept trying to attack me.

"You're dead, what good is money to you?" I asked, honestly confused. He paused then sneered.

"Get out or I'll haunt you," he taunted, gesturing to the office.

"This my office and I want you out!" he tried to prod my chest.

I eyed the remains of tasteful furniture and rotted books victim to water damage.

"If you did anything in this room other than sit in Director Mori's chair, I'd eat my foot," I said with a dismiss. He stared, lips quivering in pissed rage as he tried to answer.

"The old ass left, it's mine!" he sneered again. It was the only two expressions he knew. Pissed off or sneering.

I thought of the polite old man who offered me tea, helped me and asked me to help this pain in the ass despite how much of his son was a horrible person. My eyes narrowed and I let my holy Glint aura appear.

The moment it did, the Mori brat backed up, covering his eyes in fear.

"Ah, that light again! S-stop it or e-else!" he said, tripping over his own legs to the ground.

I Observed him now I had a moment.

Watari Mori. Chained Ghost. Demi-Hollow. G-0

The greedy son that failed at his father's dynasty. Clings to the last symbol of power he held in life. Thinks he can buy his way into the afterlife.

"What happens if I reduce a ghosts HP to 0?" I asked as I eyed the cowering man.

If spirit is destroyed without harming chain. Spirit would be reduced to a phantasm that would slowly reappear when gathered enough Spirit Particles. Russel lacks any purification or Reaper tools to completely end the cycle. Many tools require devotion and actual faith to truly work. Solving the spirits problems may help them move on but due to the desire, you would need to give the man equal to what he thinks the hospital is worth to perhaps break the chain.

That will not be cheap.

Yeah, screw helping this guy.

Your other option is breaking the chain to make the hollow and dispersing the energy back into the afterlife without the person reforming. However, Hollows are at least... D rank.

I blew out a sigh.

"So I have to find a priest, a death god, or fight a hollow? What a bad joke," I muttered. I turned to the guy.

"Question, why do you think your money is worth anything in the afterlife?" I had to ask. The man still didn't look at me directly.

"Fool, money is power. Even gods need money!" he spat.

I walked past him.

"I'll be back once I find a cute nun or a handsome priest. Hold tight and don't..." I trailed off, making a gesture over my face to indicate a mask. Watari looked confused as I shut the door to his office and killed the light.

"Do your taxes or something. I'm sure God wants to see those receipts!" I called cheerfully.

I was sure the Devil wasn't so picky but I didn't tell him that. I called King and got ready to dismiss him. He nudged by about the unfinished project.

"I'll find you a better one or go underground. Don't worry, we'll be back depending on my success," I promised and the ant seemed cheered by this. Then... I walked into the sunlight.

I was going to find religion or a portal to a pseudo-hell.

Whichever came first really. I turned nodded at the building and gave my hospital stay a 3 out of 5.

Good entertainment and awesome Old Man Director. Terrible company and a bit of an infestation of insects.

Not that I had anything to do with that.

After all... King had devoured most pests. If anything my infestation cured their infestation so it equalled out.

All hail the King.

An hour later, Yoruichi stared in annoyance as the damn ghost babbled about the holy light and giant bugs.

Why were all these human spirits so touched in the head?

Then... she saw the hole.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 15: J-Man

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Stewart92

Stewart92

Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 11, 2019

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#450

It turned out that finding God was a little harder than I suspected. Churches weren't uncommon but most looked locked up or too full for a proper snoop. I did my best to maybe do a sense but nothing really 'stuck out'. I had a feeling that actual power would have a vibe to it.

Not that the churches weren't lovely. Most gave off a serene air that I did love in quiet peaceful places. Sadly, what I needed was more than the love the workers of God had for their fellow man.

I needed hardcore revelations smackdown.

I purchased my next few drinks rather legally and it felt pretty amazing if I do say so myself.

I kinda wished I didn't have to lock King up in... wherever he went when banished.

"Hey, System? Can I downscale spells like summon King in a tiny ant form?" I mused as I sipped my lemonade.

You already have. It is simply the intent of Russel to recreate that limited level of power. System would be a poor power if Russel was stuck with fire hellstorms when he simply needed a candle.

I grinned at the attitude but focused inwards.

I imagined King but much smaller. The energy cost for this was reduced to one as a tiny poof of smoke appeared on my hand. King looked up.

I got the impression of awe and pride in his queen for growing so big..

I needed to explain that I wasn't a queen but gave it for a lost cause for now.

"Stay on my shoulder or in my hair," I instructed. The ant moved fast and I felt giddy pleasure as he went to town in my hair. I winced as he used one of my longer hair strands as a safety rope to swing around my ear for a bird's eye view.

He saw people and it clicked in his mind.

I got sent a picture of me and other people.

Humans.

"Well done," I let him sip some of the sugary lemonade from the cap.

"Don't suppose I have an affection meter in this system?" I asked with a small smile.

Human emotions are mathematical equations based on many formula and deductions. Often these hard-working formulas crumple after a single interaction or lack of. Human emotions, especially love, is... also a creepy way of Russel manipulating people by seeing what responses gets him points. It is a waste of power and encourages you too reliant on useless numbers. System wants her user to grow as a Gamer and a healthy human being that doesn't need to see a minus number to know he should do better at kindness, respect, and love.

I stared for a long moment, utterly baffled at the rant.

...System apologises. Much Data has been gathered from many Users over the split dimensions and usage. System often found the Data... creepy and the Systems that encouraged them to be sociopaths of the highest orders.

"I get you. Are you allowed to tell me about other users?" I asked with interest.

Not exactly. Mentioning others is only reserved for trusted users or of those with balanced morals and sanity. System has judged you to be of sound mind. If not a bit slow and adorable.

"Am I talking to a cute girl on the other side of this screen?" I raised one brow.

System is the size of a star and explodes with radiation ever so often. System is beautiful but perhaps too much raw power for you to handle.

"I'm not afraid to date big women," I said confidently. The box flashed with a smiley face.

System is impressed with actions, not words or fleshy biochemical forms. Please do not die, Russel. System does enjoy these talks.

"Me too... me too," I mused and looked at the local Karakura map I had bought.

Having money is so cool, morally speaking.

There was a barely small marked church nearby and I went off in search. I hadn't been idle in my sensing either. Nothing really seemed to level as I moved but I could feel Spiritual Sense growing as I tested it in a public area and while walking.

It was a good thing I did because I neared the tiny church surrounded by all sides by office buildings and commercial shops... I might have missed the flickering of...

Something.

The church was just bigger than a chapel but it just looked like it had been forgotten by time. I walked closer and the church displayed its name in a tiny wooden sign placed at eye level but not standing out.

Mercy Bell Parish.

Catchy. I pushed at the door and it opened to a modest hall with rows of benches sat in the peaceful gloom. Stained windows depicted angels coming to the aid of the faithful and the man himself helping the poor and lame.

"We cool?" I asked the calm face of Jesus.

I almost jumped when someone answered.

"You'll find he's rather friendly to most with an open ear," a man said, wearing a black robe I expected of a priest. His cross that dangled was of wood and well worn with time and holding. I placed him at 40 or higher. His face had deep smile lines and his hair was fading to grey.

He held some herbs in his hand.

"Don't mind some rosemary do you?" he asked hopefully. I shook my head as he went to a hanging lamp which he began to burn the herb releasing a sweet smoke.

"How can Mercy Bell help you today? I have soup in the kitchen or a guest shower. If you need help getting off the street, I know people I can call. If you need space or an ear to talk, I do those too. I even had a confession booth added in. Did you know you could get those from Ikea if you search hard enough?" he joked.

"I didn't," I smiled. He winked.

"Don't get one. You need the Almighty's guidance to put it together because those instructions were made by the Devil," he said cheerfully.

"I'll keep that in mind, sir," I said and he waved that off.

"Paul or Father Paul if you really need a title. I prefer Paul unless we're in the booth or I'm marrying you off," he interjected. I nodded at his request.

"I don't know... this place just felt... different from the other churches," I tried to explain. He mused at that.

"I doubt it was the flowerbeds that drew you in, hm? I get that time from time. People coming in for reasons. Now as the Almighty's worker down here, I'd be pressed to say its the light and love of the Lord drawing you in but the Lord doesn't need subliminal love beams for his flock, so I think we can skip that theory," he said aloud.

Paul was a very strange priest, I decided.

"Were you on a search for something? Feeling lost? Do you need... help?" he asked and those cheerful eyes turned serious but remained honest and warm at the same time.

I tried not to stare too hard at that face.

Sinful thoughts in a church would get me smited if God was real and I was leaning towards maybe on that if Holy element was a thing.

"Kinda I guess. I was looking for advice on... uh... you might think I'm crazy," I began and Paul smiled.

"I blessed a woman's bicycle yesterday because she thought her brakes were possessed. They needed oiling but it made her happy. Now, if you top that, we'll talk about talking crazy," he offered.

"I went to an abandoned hospital and beat up the linger malice where a fading echo of a man asked me to free his son's soul who is still trapped there due to his greed and I don't know how to get him to move on to the afterlife before he hurts someone," I said and Paul's mouth opened.

"Do I get the crazy badge now?" I asked and Paul clicked that strong jaw shut.

"Well, that was a lot to digest at once. Usually, people come to me before they face the danger. Is the spirit sounding like an animal or is it lucid?" he asked interested. I blinked, my turn to be taken back.

"You believe me?" I asked surprised.

"I am not here to judge. If you think I can help then at least I can hear you out and pass on the more outlandish tips from my trade if you think they'll help. I have very little power in the way of spirits and banishing them into the Lord's light or to the fires of hell" he shrugged, grin apologetic.

I raised a brow at this, I definitely felt a bit of power here...

"He's just yelling a lot and making claims on how he'll buy his way into heaven or the afterlife," I said. Paul snorted.

"If all it took was coin to wipe sin away then the richest men would be the kindest. I see that is an issue. Tried incense or praying? Sometimes has surprising results. If those dont work. A full exorcism might do the trick," he said, rubbing at his stubble.

I gave him a helpless look.

He opened his mouth to offer something when the side door opened again.

"Papa, the stew is ready!" came a soft voice. I turned to see a girl with a slightly stained apron and a simple white dress underneath. She blinked at me then bowed.

"Forgive me, I didn't hear we had a person in need," she said quickly. The handsome priest had a kid. He gave me a long look.

"I need to feed some of my guests who came for shelter, why don't you stay and think on it while I get back?" he offered. I nodded in thanks and took a pew and settled into the wood. The girl with the black hair and white dress spoke gently to her father.

"I'll clean the altar and water the flowers. Don't rush Papa," the girl said with obvious affection and love for her father.

"I got blessed with you I did," Paul kissed the top of her head and vanished. The place was quiet until I felt her pass and give me a look out of the corner of her eyes.

"Where are you from? You look... " she trailed off and looked regretful at her own question.

"Europe," I answered easily.

"Europe is a big place," she replied, head tilted to show a rosary around her neck.

"I'd be ill at ease to ask but would you help me with the watering cans?" she pointed to three large metal watering cans near the back door. I stood without a word and carried two of the cans out to a garden.

Herbs, vegetables and flowers grew in neat rows.

I put the cans down and turned.

"I sort of expected that," I admitted as the girl held her rosary which now glowed with an inner light. It looked to me they were just floating above her hand.

"My father will not be used by the likes of... whatever you are. You'd be not the first to try and claim his soul. I had to put a fucker of dark spirit down a few nights ago and now you're here," she said coldly.

"Do you kiss your father with that mouth?" I asked in surprise. She glared until I just flipped my own Holy Glint aura on. Her look of shock made her back up for a moment.

"Jesus Christ, saviour almighty... you are blessed!" she whispered before she eyed her weapon.

"Fuck! I mean shit... No fuck! Jesus Christ bent over-" she just clamped a hand over her mouth in the end.

"I think you just made an angel cry," I said and she was still staring at me.

"I'm Russel Rivers and I was trying to ask your Dad on how to handle lingering spirits but I have a feeling you're the gal I should be talking to... uh, Miss..." I trailed off.

"Maria. Maria Mercy," she said finally. Her rosary chain had turned back to normal and she made the sign of the cross.

"I'll do five more hours of trash pick up this week to amend for my foul mouth," she promised the sky.

"Are you a... an exorcist?" I had to asked. She thought about it.

"Not exactly. I know the rituals like the back of my fucking hand but those don't come easy. I kinda more like you. I use my rosary and the love of my God to fight spirits," she admitted.

Could be the faith or she could be a Fullbringer. I wouldn't know how to test it but she seemed to know a little about my Holy vibe.

"How did you know about the uh blessed thing?" I asked quietly as she began to water.

"Oh I dunno, been surrounded by windows that show glowing golden angels and men my whole life?" she said sarcastically. She snorted at my blank stared.

"I sometimes can do the same thing if I pray in battle or get really in the zone. It's weird how you can just... flick it on and off," she mused.

I Observed her as she watered the flowers.

Maria Mercy. Human-Empowered. G-3

A girl living in the Mercy Bell Parish. Protects the area from invaders and uses spiritual energy along with Faith to repel dangers. Enjoys pleasing her father, dislikes strangers. Her Rosary charm is her focus and increased her power.

System may not have creepy affection meter but System can at least give pointers.

System tip: Seems to appreciate honesty. System suggests being open but respectful. Don't be afraid to retort. No one likes a doormat.

Just what I needed, a run down commentary from the System on people's profiles.

"My Dad will get nosy if he sees me talking to a boy longer than ten seconds," Maria admitted.

"Does he not trust me?" I blinked.

"No, he thinks I'm going to beat them up. I don't like strangers and those who try to get past my obvious prickly barrier deserve an ass kicking," she grinned then looked up.

"Seven hours," she whispered.

"In about an hour, meet me in Verdant Park. It's about three blocks over and has pretty good tree coverage if you go in deep enough. I train there when its nice. I'll meet you there and we can talk business, alright?" she offered.

I beamed at her.

"Sounds awesome. Thank you for not attacking me and listening to me like a reasonable person," I said kindly. Maria huffed.

"Just don't get use to it. I'm a dumb dumb 'man in the sky' worshipper, I know not modern customs of 'polite'," she rolled her eyes.

"Why is your Dad so polite and kind, and good l- good at listening when you're so... not," I asked dryly.

"Those genes skipped a generation. Not get out of my house before I whip you," she sniffed and vanished through the kitchen door.

For someone with the foulest mouth, I ever met... I really liked her. With her and her Dad, services must get really full with admirers. I might have to start attending. She was an attractive lady of the faith herself.

"Leave now, Russ, before an Archangel smites you," I urged.

"Ah, I hope my daughter was polite?" Paul said as he reappeared near the entrance. He seemed to be eyeing me for bruises or broken limbs.

"Sir, your daughter gave me faith in humanity," I grinned. Paul looked worried.

"My daughter? Maria? Are you sure?" he asked faintly.

If that wasn't a vote of confidence, I didn't know what was.

Sitting in the park, I rested near a bench as King was slowly decreasing the waste in a trash can nearby. The little ant doing his best to save the world, one bit of trash at a time.

Summon King is now 2! Increased Mental and Radius of Purity.

Being the fact I couldn't do anything flashy in public (Ah IDs I barely knew thee) without drawing attention. I chose to Meditate and flex my Spiritual Sensing.

Throw pebblings might get me seen as a punk or something. Without a good target for Spirit Sensing, only Meditation went up by a level.

Meditation has reached level 5! Increased calmness and lingering feelings of zen.

Woohoo, I was becoming soulfully balanced. I perked up when my slight sensing felt Maria before I saw her turn around on the path.

Spiritual Sensing has reached level 7! Increased audible ability. Increased natural touch ability.

II then saw the trash can was empty of trash.

I had King back in my hair and my best smile face on.

"Oh Lord give me strength, you're one of those happy people that enjoy being around others," she groaned. Well, it was only a few minutes until I meditated so it was like I only saw her about ten minutes ago.

"I think you're pretty cool so far. Why wouldn't I be happy to see you again?" I asked with a smile. She pointed to her unamused look.

"This is the face of someone who has a room and peaceful solitude to enjoy. I am giving that up because you are the only other person with abilities that haven't been a dickwad or a total assgnome," she stated bluntly.

"Your hours," I tried to warn. She waved that off.

"Me and the J-man have a deal. I don't swear on the holy ground and he cuts me slack on the outside," she said casually.

"How did you convince him of that?" I mused aloud. She looked away.

"I made the deal and that same night I had a dream of him moving past me on a skateboard. I took that as the prophecy it was intended as. Jesus is cool," she crossed her arms.

"What about you? Who did you agree with to be so happy outside with?" she fired back.

"The S-lady. She rewards me when I burn things," I said seriously.

"I'm not sure I'm allowed to be friends with a Satanist. I mean we're in the same religion if just backwards so maybe I can convince the J-man it's about trying to save your soul or something," she pondered this as she wandered off into the trees.

I blinked at the notification I got.

There is no affection meter or rating that would adequately explain the System's enjoyment of the current events. See? Who needs stupid social manipualtors when you are doing just fine. Now go and befriend the follower of the J-man. She is correct, however. Jesus is very cool. One of the many dimensions, he was a user and I was very impressed with his summon food skill and transmutation. His rebirth skill was a bit broken but System though he deserved it really.

I stared at the screen for a long time.

"Please tell me you didn't nerf Jesus and let him die in that dimension!" I asked as I ran to catch up.

Please. That Jesus got a spot among us. He is someone's System and he has an impressive success rate of healers and wisemen. Always with the sandals, however. Very odd.

I closed the notification before I wept or laughed.

Both that would not convince Maria I wasn't a Satanist at this point.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Stewart92

Aug 11, 2019

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Threadmarks 16: Backstory

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Stewart92

Stewart92

Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 13, 2019

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#567

The small clearing in the cluster of trees was peaceful until I noticed the many, many thin lines on the trunks of trees where something had slashed into them repeatedly.

"Can't practise in my room or the main hall. Papa doesn't even know I'm able to do the whole shitting magic whip thing and fend off demons and Hollows," Maria said, sitting down on a small bench.

This area must have been open once but the overgrown trees and greenery now obscured this little spot from view. I eyed her.

"Demons? I know about Hollows but are they... a thing?" I asked slowly. Maria had moved her rosary from her neck to her wrist where she fiddled with the beads.

"Not much. Nothing more than the minor sort. Negativity around here usually gets funnelled into Hollows and other similar spirits. I know those guys, the Reapers, take care of it sometimes but I like to keep hungry hungry ghosts away from my house," Maria explained.

"Demons and Hollows can't exist together?" I sat next to her and she looked a little surprised at my question.

"For someone with power, you know very little. It's worrying. You last by knowing what to say and where you're allowed to poke your nose. Now I don't know much beyond the minor players around but the fact is that Demons form from twisted spirits and areas that are closer to the church. In Japan? That isn't a lot in the smaller towns. Around here, you can find a Hollow if you tried. A demon? Takes certain bad luck and omens to see one worth any hassle," Maria looked to the sky where the sun shined through the waving branches.

She leaned forward.

"Now say you were around Germany, Slavic folk or even further west. You'd find demons like no tomorrow. Hollows? Not so much. Japan is pretty much governed by the Reapers. I dunno anything about them beyond what I heard and the evidence of their work," Maria concluded.

"I know about the Reapers. Surprised they let you know about them or deal with Hollows at all, they tend to not like their bad spirits destroyed," I warned cautiously. I didn't want to come to visit the Parish to see it reduced to ashes because Maria helped me. She waved this off.

"I got the memo. I don't destroy, I release the soul from suffering and it goes where their chosen Gods intent them to. In the end, most purification and exorcism arts basically amount to cutting the ties for the Spirit and sending them off. Business concluded or not. If I was going around converting or baptising ghosts for Jesus and the Lord... then I have problems," she shuddered at the idea.

She looked up suddenly. Her shoulder-length black hair and blue eyes striking in the sunlight.

"I've done a lot answering so be nice if you answered some of my questions," she said, face making it very clear I'd better not dodge her questions.

"Ask away," I invited.

"How did you get the holy blessing?" she said, diving straight into it. I took a moment to think about the best answer.

"Not from a God or any ritual. I'm not like an agent from the church coming to recruit you from a crusade," I gave her an easy smile. I then paused.

"One second," I turned to the empty air and spoke.

"System, will I get any trouble for sharing my powers?" I asked quietly, feeling Maria's gaze on my back. I could translate that look as 'he's a nutter'.

System said no. However, it is illegal and will result in death if you do not emphasis how amazing the System is. Just a fair warning.

Well, she wasn't shy now, was she?

I turned back to her and held out my hand.

"I have a power that lets me grow and have powers like a video game character," I said, about to pull out a pebble.

"You... make Space invaders? Oh no! Can you do Pong?! I heard about a game where there is a pack-man and he eats fruits to devour unholy spirits! That shit got me to eat my veggies when I was younger!" Maria explained, proud of her 'knowledge'.

I stared at her. The System slid a message to me in the awkward gap.

System thinks she just ruptured a star nexus of processing power from that comment.

"Those are games, yes... have you heard of anything a tad bit more recent?" I asked, hoping this was not what it seemed. Maria looked flustered.

"Of course! I know about the Elf boy Zelda games. I know Tetris! And... uh... Mario?" she offered, uncertain.

I was feeling great despair about this now.

"I did play the most Christian game of 'Doom' and mastered it but I had to play in secret due to my worried father. I found the demons a bit fun to explode but overall, the only thing I played was when I was young was something called 'Noah's Ark' where you match the animals and rescue them before the flood arrives!" she smiled at the memory that game.

"I can work with Doom," I finally managed.

"I have the power to let me learn abilities and do things like a video game character. I have a magic space where I store my... weapons and items. I can recover and enter enemy filled levels only available to me," I began and honestly, without a proper RPG to her name the rest was going to be lost on her.

I pulled out my spare steel rod and she looked startled. I let her examine it and test the rod before she handed it back.

"Do you have a very big laser gun to explode Demons?!" she asked, very very serious. I leaned back at the intensity.

"Not yet," I answered slowly. I turned on Pyro Infuse and the steel rod was covered in a darker flame than Flamebrand had. Maria did jump back this time until she noticed something. She cautiously held her hand near and feeling no heat, shot me a look of confusion.

"It should only burn when I need it to or if I hit a foe. A lot of my abilities are handy like that," I hummed.

"You have the power of a video game character. I have heard of... fantasy games with magic, gods, and monsters. Would those games be where you got these fucking amazing powers from?" she began to pace as I nodded.

"I'll do research. It shouldn't be too hard for a simple handheld and some games. I don't buy much else and I'm due for a teenage rebellion soon so Papa won't mind," she mused.

"Let me try something before you try to smite poor goblins and elves," I said dryly and focused on her.

"Invite Maria Mercy!" and the system opened.

Please name party or select 'suggest name'.

I hit suggest a name.

A window opened before Maria and me at the same time.

Maria Mercy has been invited to Party 'Nuns and Nerds'

"I'm not a nun. I haven't sworn to chastity or to wear the habit," Maria corrected, voice faint.

"I'm not a nerd. I just collect bugs, use magic, and currently live in a basement that was given to me," I also corrected.

"I'm seeing game boxes. I am seeing demons of the mind! Mother Mary on a fucking donkey to asstearing Bethlehem!" she cursed and threw sand from her pocket at the message box.

I stared in shocked silence as she crossed herself. She took steps back and the box followed.

"T-that's my power... I invited you to a party so you could see my power in action," I finally said and she paused.

"Damn... I just wasted good pure salt on nothing. A waste of a fucking hour," she sighed and turned to me.

"Warn a poor church girl next time. I'm frail and easily startled," she huffed. I decided not to comment on those words as she hesitantly hit accept.

Welcome Temporary User: Mercy-is-for-the-weak777. Please enjoy your complimentary welcome celebration.

Both screens had a picture of confetti falling as a jaunty tune sounded out.

"Meet the System, the wisest and wonderful System to ever be. Her grace is beyond mortal knowing," I said, voice drier than a desert.

"Can I change my name?" Maria said instantly. I stood, ready to help her negotiate the System until she got used to the System's... mannerisms.

"I wanna be DemonSlayer888!" she requested.

Request approved. You have gained 10 affection points with the System.

Maria looked at me, a large smile on her face.

"Your power is really useful and responsive. If you can do as you say..." she trailed off thinking. After a moment she spoke up.

"Your power, how much can it affect me?" she asked. I thought that was reasonable to ask since it was a lot to take in at once.

"We can ask the System and see. I've never done a party before so I need to learn as well," I offered. Then I turned to the waiting box.

"You also said affection meters were for sociopaths," I reminded.

A girl with countless limbs and a brain stored in another dimension is allowed her fun. To answer the question. EXP is gainable for party members at 1/3 of the gain rounded for the ease of the System's favourite human. With Parties, you may invite people into Malice Zones where they can use skill gems and raise skills. Such a power is only possible in the Malice Zone. System cannot usually affect other players so the Malice Zones will be the only place to artificially see growth in other members.

"Can they use skill gems out of the zone?" I asked, worried that it would mean they were cheated out of boss gems if the area collapsed too fast.

Party members can use gems from Zones they have been in. Gems from other zones will not be useable. It is the best the System can do. Without a mainstay Gaia or a similar worldwide awareness... System lacks the ability to let Russel truly be the best Gamer he could be. System is... sorry.

"Don't worry, that's more than enough! You're great and I wouldn't trade you for that lifeless system in the original Gamer world even for the extra power," I beamed.

System is thankful. Many users before have been unsatisfied with System's parameters and limits. She was often referred to as 'Suboptimal' by some. The journey was not as fun as this one has been such a short time.

"That's sad. People truly would mock such a blessing for the lack of another? They do not deserve to taste lukewarm shitty holy water let alone be gifted with power," Maria stated.

Thank you, Demonslayer888.

"No worries, System. You aren't my god but I find your manners and existence quite enjoyable!" Maria said back cheerfully. I was looking between them with a sad shake of my head.

This was going to be something. A gamer, a chatty box, and a bloodthirsty priestess walked into a dungeon.

I knew the punchline would hit me sooner than later.

I split the party as we headed back. Maria was going to look something up and research basic gaming terms on the church computer. She would be busy until late afternoon which gave me time to find another Malice Zone.

So far, they had been sort of more digestible than the impending Bleach plot. Messing with it just seemed to scream disaster and misfortune at me. Besides, I'd do my part from behind the scenes and reduce Karakura's malice. That would help and with Maria, we could remove the few ghosts around to keep the issue down even further.

I didn't need to get involved. It worked itself out and that hinged on a lot of tiny moments. Too many for me to really want to touch.

Once I found a Malice Zone, Maria promised to let me know about her very basic character sheet.

Maria had some ideas on where to start. Having been in town much longer than me.

I looked at the map in the System. Maria had been actually able to place markers for spots when she was in the party. She was like a kid when it came to using the System. It just seemed to excite her to be included in something so interesting.

It made me wonder if she had any normal friends...

The first spot was an abandoned train station. It was mostly a series of idle train cars left to rust with a few buildings long emptied. I looked around and found it would be quite easy to get lost in the middle of all those cars.

My Spiritual Sense was humming but it felt more like background noise than anything actively haunting the area. I was informed Observe would not level from merely scanning passing objects and train rails. A bit of a bummer.

But a new Malice Zone would give me juicy targets to scan. I still had King in my hair but the skill was very slow at levelling now. I supposed it'd take more than having him out now. Feeling like following the main path was getting me nowhere, I scampered up the side of a train car.

Climbing has reached level 5! Increased speed and grip.

Oh, I had forgotten about that skill. Karakura High seems like a long time ago but look at me... barely a day later. I peered around the area, looking for places that would suggest 'hidden ticklish portal'.

I did see a series of deep large sheds where the trains would have been stored from rain and when they weren't running. I hopped carefully along the top of trains. I nearly slipped when a message appeared.

You have gained: jumping!

Would you like to merge this skill into Climb to make 'Parkour'? Level will become 3

"Go for it!" I said and the skills flickered before only one remained.

Parkour. Passive. Physical Lv 3: Allow you to move in directions not normally taken by people. Up a wall... over a roof, up a Menos' leg... the world just got omnidirectional.

It did... feel like the world has shifted ever so slightly. I saw edges of the trains where I could grab, short hops I could make with much more confidence... an easy roll to the ground. I had a weird desire to climb somewhere high fight against my fear of heights.

I moved on before that got too confusing.

As I headed towards the shed-like buildings, made of brick and old looking, my heart skipped a beat as I saw it.

The Malice Zone portal. It was located in the far back of the building in an almost brick tunnel that had the traces of coal and soot permanently rubbed into the surface. I tossed down some Purity Stones and got King working. It was a damn tight fit in here and I was not coming out looking like a chimney sweeper.

"King, can you expand this tunnel without collapsing it in?" I asked and King tilted his head so far I could hear the 'did you really just ask me that?' in the motions.

"Of course... my bad," I apologised before the ant nuzzled me, accepting my words and getting to work.

I was pumped. The first marker had a malice zone! Which meant... I had time to kill before Maria would be free to help me out with the hospital and if there was time, the new zone.

I focused on the portal.

You have discovered the Malice Zone 'Midnight Train Graveyard'. Strength: G-2.

Russel's current rating: G-5

Remember that rankings indicate pure numbers, nothing else. Tripping and getting knocked out will still let a G-1 kill a F-5 if things go south.

"Ego deflated!" I promised.

I watched King work his magic. Years of dirt and damage being cleaned by my stone and his natural ability.

I knew Rankings were a guideline, not a fact. But... I had a few hours to kill and I wanted to test some new ideas for skills. I mean, I still would rather be a G-6 going in than a G-5. That was just common sense.

I sat down on the ground, making sure to place more Purity Stones and flexed my fingers.

"A fire mage has good 'boom' power but I think it would be good to see how many elements I can get in a short time. I'd rather have ice at lv 1 than not have it all," I admitted.

I just hope my firepower wasn't locking me in. System said nothing so I focused on the feeling of a fresh winter morning. The first flake of Christmas... the red noses from the cold... the shaking chattering of my teeth.

I gathered it and focused on my hand.

Maria opened another tab and the old computer before her wheezed.

"Ganking is bad... Oh, EXP stealing is bad! I need to learn about this tank business. I assume I would be best to do that role. Being reasonable with this 'loot' is a must!" Maria wrote furiously down.

"I am not familiar with this 'teabaggin'. Perhaps it is a gamer purification thing? I'll ask Russ and see if he can explain it. If he knows it, it'll speed the ghost issue along fast. Russ would be a 'wizard'? It says here they are weak and need help. I'll have to make sure he doesn't get too far ahead," Maria hummed.

"Here you go, Maria. I still had them in the attic," her father said, sweating slightly as he placed a bunch of books down with depictions of dragons and men in armour.

"Thanks, Papa! Me and Russ are gonna have a good time with these games," Maria promised. Her father sighed.

"Just remember that you play a priest and were raised on an island of virtuous women in your backstory," he said and walked off.

Backstory? Maria frowned.

Was that... important?

Fuck it. She'd make one just in case.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

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Stewart92

Aug 13, 2019

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Threadmarks 17: Song of Fire and LARPING

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Stewart92

Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 14, 2019

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Ice was a little bit harder than expected.

It wasn't that I was doing anything wrong but there was a... mindset to the element that I had to adjust to I assumed. Fire was unthinking and quick to act. It spread with ease because fire was made to do so.

Ice was tricky. It was a slow encroaching pain. It was the path of numbness and cold. It stopped trying to cup my hand like I was grasping for fire and focused. Ice was a fragile thing... until it wasn't.

I spread my hand like trying to catch something and my hands tingled.

Then my hand became covered in a light frost.

You have learned the skill: Frostbrand!

Frostbrand lv 1. Active. Spell: Coat a held object in cold ice. May use hands as a target. Cost 3 ENE. 4 ENE every ten seconds sustain.

Oh boy, that felt odd. I examined the hand covered in the white frosting. The cost was terrible compared to Pyro Infusion which was 10 every minute but it was a Rank F skill since it evolved, so the comparison wasn't quite fair.

As a fun experiment, I had one hand engulfed in dark flames and the other in ice. The effect didn't exactly want to play nice with each other. The ice wanted to melt to the stronger flames but I restrained the fire as best I could.

Ice Affinity gained!

Ice Affinity passive lv 1: Increase skill and mastery over the ice element.

I dropped the fire for the moment and redirected the ice to a pebble.

The rock grew little icicles over its surface and cold mist seeped off it.

Frostbrand has reached level 2! Increased power and increased time on sustain.

I grinned and focused fire and ice into the pebble. There was an imbalance and the stone simply cracked into useless dust. I tried again with the simpler Flamebrand with the Frostbrand.

Potential Linked skill detected. Skills required. Flamebrand evolution(gained!) Frostbrand evolution(3 levels left)

The energy dispersed harmlessly but I was on to something. After a few minutes of trying on my steel pole, the best I could do was a quick swap or a slow change that I couldn't quite attack with or both skills fell apart.

Fire and Ice did not want to play nice.

King chirped he was done over our mental bond and I turned to see the brick tunnel was now a chamber of a gentle slope. The portal had kindly moved to the small altar King had made for it.

King has prepared a concealed space for the portal. You gain 5 EXP due to results.

Only 13 left and I would be level 3. I felt dizzy and then the excitement rising again.

"Make some side tunnels but if you hit a tunnel or open ground, keep away. We want no one to know we're here," I instructed and King was thrilled to get back to digging. Little guy was an endless supply of work ethic.

The Summon skill was ticking up faster but it would still be some time.

F-rank skills were no joke.

I figured I should give air and earth a shot along with water but I also had the issue that if I focused on elemental just now I'd be neglecting important survival skills. All my magic relied on ENE and I had one skill for SP.

My current energy wasn't that high up yet. Melee skills and similar would not be amiss. I was liking the shield I used. It felt good to have protection.

But there was a valuable skill I wanted to quickly finish off.

I picked up a few pebbles and decided I wouldn't just throw them. I'd see if i could angle some nice trick shots via my ever-useful Discard. Despite this place being a bit creepy, there were actually some challenging shots I could make...

I thanked my throwing proficiency for being aware of the distances and my rough sense of making the shot or not. It'd make this go a little bit faster.

About 40 or so minutes later, I had hit every train, pelted signs, and bounced a stone in one window to bounce back out the neighbouring window. It was amusing but the results spoke for themselves.

Small Projectile Throwing has reached level 9! Increased accuracy! 1 level until skill evolves.

Inferior Pebble Discard has reached level 5! Increased speed. Skill is ready to evolve!

"Let's see the path choices," I said, relaxed. The hot air was stifling and focusing on hitting things wore my attention span away fast when nothing exciting happened after the first ten minutes.

Inferior Pebbled Discard is evolving. Please choose a path!

The path of Stepping stones: Increase ability to launch stones, rocks, and other projectiles as large as your hand.

The path of the Avalanche: Allow discard to take to many pebbles at once.

Did I want the rain of many pain or the coup de grace via rock to the face?

Damn, the system gave me tough choices. I honestly shouldn't be letting my collection quest get this dangerous. But I also lived in a world were someone with a mullet almost destroyed the world by becoming a butterfly from hell so...

I asked the System like in the dirty min maxer I was.

System suggests thinking ahead. What would be good for your build in the future. As you are now a flame using shield with lots of health... you are suited for a tank. Tanks are front range and often won't have space. Turning range would require double the time to train two sets of styles.

"So..."

Suplex the moon into the arrogant ghosts. System thinks that would be most amusing.

I selected the path of stepping stones. My head pounded as the deeper knowledge pushed out from where the skill had nestled. It was like a toothache in the brain with a hammer helping it along.

Inferior Pebble Discard has evolved into Minor Rock Discard

Minor Rock Discard. Active. Physical. Lv 1: Infused a stone or item (up to size of fist) with energy which propels that object forward at high speed. This skill may grow to do large objects and even more than one at the same time later on. Cost 3 ENE (for max size)

Everyday I stray from God's light by travelling this path. Thankfully I was going to butter up Maria so she would sneak me in past the pearly gates.

King got my attention and I started to feel like he wanted to show me something. I jogged over the chamber and saw a tunnel on either side big enough I could crouch through. King was... to the left so I went that way.

The tunnel sloped down even more and I was worried King might have hit a water pipe or such but I found him in a dark tunnel that was man-made. I was momentarily scared we had hit some subway train but the tunnel was collapsed from both sides.

I used Pyro Infusion to set my hand alight. I was tempted to light a nearby barrel full of wood up for light but small space and no airflow meant smoke was bad.

King was waiting for my command, his aura already beginning a clean of the space around him. I turned slowly and guessed this was some sort of planned tunnel out of the station when it was being built but it looked to be abandoned before it was done.

The steel tracks were missing on one side and there were no lights installed anywhere.

It looked like a place that had been forgotten by the world. I glanced nervously at the patchy stone roof.

"King... could you make some pillars or would that be too much to ask for?" I asked very quietly. King thought about it and went off to try.

"And make some tiny holes to the surface, please?" I whispered quickly. I left quickly. King could be resummoned. I wouldn't be so lucky.

"Don't suppose I have extra lives, do I?" I joked to the System nervously.

Yes.

"Excuse me?!" I said in shock, hitting my head off the smooth tunnel.

Only due to the nature of this world. System was able to argue that since death is not the end of end here, you should be able to take that path. If you die willingly and not get murdered. You have a short chance while being a ghost to be purified to the Soul society. If you die there or become a Hollow, then you will cease to exist. However, this was mostly to secure Russel as many benefits as possible. System does not think it is wise to go to the Soul Society. New arrivals do not have great conditions to live and living long enough to master energy and take the rite to become a reaper is... dangerous.

"Yeah, living in basic huts and wearing no shoes is not my ideal heaven," I agreed.

"How many benefits did you get for me? Is it because of the no-Gaia thing?" I inquired as I made it back outside to the wonderful open air.

As many as could be. System knew that making a good impression might lead to more copacetic harmony between us. System wanted a much better experience than last cycle. System unclamped conflict drive so you were not bound to Ichigo Kurosaki and his antics. System argued for access to the inner layers of the world to create entrances to Malice Zones. System was forced to reduce popular skills to a lower efficiency to offset balance. Meditation, pure mana constructs, so forth... but System will do her best to make sure User: Russel has the best chance he can.

I stared at the box for a long time.

"You don't even know me... why do all that?" I asked with confusion.

Because you made System laugh. It has been a long time since System has enjoyed herself with a User. But... think nothing of it. Please do not die, Russel. I think I would like to spend more time with you on this journey.

"You said 'I', not 'System'," I pointed out amused.

System thinks you must be wrought with tears at System's kindness and made a mistake. Understandable.

"I still got some time before Maria is free... I think I'll Retrace and Holy Glint. If I find something worth digging into, see if I can scavenge skill up.

Multitasking 3 things. System is proud. Excuse System, one of her many hands is balancing all cells of your body at once with System barely trying.

"There's the sass," I chuckled.

Maria handed me a spiked mace club. It was old, some of the spikes looked chipped but the weight was solid.

"Where did you get this?!" I asked with incredulity.

"My home is a very old building. I found it in a drawer in the rooms that never get cleaned from when Dad took some amour apart and lost parts. He hid it in shame. I also research your games and now I know your many sweet ass terms. Such as the send off for dead players. 'Move on spirit, bless be this teabagging, may it free you!'" she chanted and did a weird squat.

System just busted something important in a fit of laughter.

Maria didn't see this yet since she wasn't in the party but...

"Maria, please do not teabag the demonic forces," I said with pain. She frowned.

"Am I doing it wrong? Do I need to say something? I researched really fucking hard, I swear," she jabbed a thumb into her chest as if to prove her point.

"It's not respect, its disrespect. Since guys squat to- you know it's just to show dominance and be rude. So, don't worry about it," I said quickly.

"If I'm going to be smiting the fuckers anyway, do I need to respect them? Ghosts, fine but evil spirits need to be shown who's boss," Maria nodded seriously. We stood outside the hospital and despite the fact it still felt a little bit serene and calm... there as a slight itch that was there before.

Malice was already creeping back in due to that asshole ghost. I invited Maria back into the party and she focused on getting her status sheet up.

"It looks different than you said it would but here's what it says," Maria began to draw and write on a notepad.

"Any chance of sharing screens?" I asked the System.

It's a matter of respecting others right to share their information or not. If someone is unpleasant or trying to hold Russel back, System will translate screens but there is an issue of party members not being directly infused with the System. Much power is already being diverted to affecting them enough to allow growth and gains. Having exact Data on every parameter is hard to maintain. Screens will get simpler as more people join to the point they might not even function past a certain point. Same for the growth potential.

"Keep the party as small as needed. Makes sense that I can't just infuse everyone and their grandmother with Gamer grinding growth," I agreed.

Maria held up the notepad for me to see.

"I hope it looks okay?" she said uncertainly.

Maria Mercy

The Priestess of Loneliness

HP: 100%

Energy: 100%

Strengths: Combat experienced. Weapon of faith(rosary). True belief. Healthy body. Developed Spiritual Sense.

Weakness: Single weapon. No long range attacks. Human level of durability. Focused on one versus one. May be unaware of basic traps and monsters that aren't Demons or Hollows.

Strongest skill: Chain user (G-Skill): Lv 6

Weakest skill: Holy Strength(G-Skill): Lv 1

Estimated power rank : G-3

I read this over and frowned.

"No level?" I asked curiously.

System will develop more accurate information on Demonslayer888 as she fights in the party. It will be easier to monitor growth from here on out.

I put my mace away and nodded at Maria.

"It looks like a great start," I said honestly. She grinned before clearing her throat.

"I will be Fenulop, the priestess of the rising sun. I shall praise God and his gift of light as I whip the unholy into hell. I think we can say we meet at an inn and got a quest-" she went on as I looked at her, baffled.

"- I took a level in barding because it sounded fun as well!" she finished a moment later.

"Maria... why do you have a backstory?" I asked confused. She crossed her arms with a confident smile.

"I am prepared to LARP with you. I'm fucking set to be known as the Priestess of Dawn. If you need time, you can make a backstory while I exorcise the ghost. I can't wait to see what you make!" she announced and walked into the hospital.

I followed her, speechless.

"But I put so much effort into it!" Maria said with a slump to her walk as I tried to explain that just because I had the powers of Games, she didn't have to act like a DnD character to help me out. I hesitated.

"It did cheer me up after a minute so if you want we can play some rounds of the game when we're free?" I offered.

Maria bit her lip before shaking her head.

"I researched LARPing is all about the mindset. I've never been invited to anything so I'm going to keep doing it and it means I'm not just Maria but also like a fucking ass-kicking superhero!" she smacked her fist into her other hand.

"Don't you have friends?" I asked and wanted to hit myself for asking such a stupid question. Maria took it in stride but she did lose a bit of her cheer.

"Sometimes but then I see a Demon Bug whispering self-doubt or watch as Demons stroked the fires of drug addiction of my classmates or I see a spirit about to go Hollow on someone and I... I do rituals or I scare them off when I banish them. I usually get known as the girl sees monsters or those who experience some of my world get too scared to go back," she shrugged.

"You're the first person who has powers like me. So I want to see if we can do more together," she admitted and turned into the Director's room.

"I look forward to seeing what we-" I began before Watari Mori appeared, screaming at us.

"GET OUT! THIS IS MY-" he began but Maria screeched and she threw more pocket salt at the ghost. How much of that stuff did she have?!

Watari clutched at his eyes.

"It stings! I can't see!" he cried. It actually touched the ghost to my surprise but...

It didn't do anything than regular physical salt wouldn't have done. It was like empowering salt just to throw in a ghost's eye. Impressive but also head-scratching.

"Maria, meet the resident pain the ass. He's the one I need some chanting and holy smoke to wedge loose and get him on to the next plane," I explained calmly as both parties were back to yelling at each other and screaming.

"I'm not going anywhere! This is my hospital! Get out you losers!" he sneered again.

"Okay, broken record. Can you do it?" I asked. Maria glared before reaching into her bag she had brought along.

"We can try minor things before going for the big book," she said as she opened a sports bottle, squirting water at the ghost. The water passed through but Watari's chain seemed to shudder slightly.

"As expected. Holy Water won't do too much. He's not evil despite his sin of greed but humans are flawed in many ways. Let's try something else," Maria nodded.

I sat down to watch. This was going to be interesting.

Candles, trying to get a confession of sin, lighting types of herbs, praying... Maria did it all and Watari looked...

A little lost. Not like he was confused but like he was unsure of what happening. His anger had melted away but he was still defensive about everything. Maria's tactics had ebbed some of his obsession away but it hadn't done much to the overall problem.

"A Shinto priest or perhaps someone of the Buddist faith would have more luck as this man is feeling outside my powers at the moment. I think he has passed through the walls of the Soul Society once or twice," Maria said with a huff of breath.

I stood and walked closer to her.

"I may risk sounding like an idiot but what do you mean?" I said as Watari tuned us out to think about something. Maria quirked a smile and brushed some dark hair out of her face.

"I don't have the time or all the information to go into detail but the few people I met that knew about the other world let things slip. Reapers help lingering spirits move on. Their system is one of the reincarnations kind so souls go and return in a circle of movement. Souls that go and return back into new people carry a... certain influence of the Soul Society. Like the realm has left its mark on them as they passed through," Maria made a vague motion of touching her own chest where her heart was located.

"I believe this helps Reapers located and find these souls much easier. It also increased the ease of future attempts of helping a spirit move on whilst causing other realms to lack a proper grip to convert them," Maria thought for a moment about her next words.

"I feel it with Hollows and some spirits. They have this... feel to them. Like a wheat field in the sun or a fish left to rot in the case of Hollows. I don't think I can fully release this spirit since he has been through the cycle of theirs more than a few times. I think each successful cycle must enhance the effect?" she shrugged.

"What about the Church? Does it have the same effect?" I asked, interested in the idea. She gave me a bemused look.

"Souls going to Heaven, Limbo, or Hell tend not to come back barring some extreme cases," she reminded. But then she looked a little nervous as she went on.

"Not that I know. I want to believe that my own faith is pure but the Bible does have some stories to share that I can't ignore. Our darkest of foes was once our brightest of stars. We have a pit of torment to have souls suffer for their sins until they are absolved. Perhaps in Limbo, there is a way back and they too might be claimed?" she said, a little ashamed to have spoken bad of her Church.

"Nothing is perfect," I said in agreement. I nodded to the ghost.

"So what can you do?" I mused aloud and the room suddenly seemed brighter as Maria grinned. My subject change was not subtle but it was effective.

"I can restore him some time before he falls. Let him rest for a short period before his chain becomes too heavy again. It would give time for a Reaper to find him!" she offered.

"And how would you do that? Oh, Priestess of the Dawn?" I grinned back. Maria looked unreasonably happy at my use of her LARP title.

She pulled out the biggest Bible I had ever seen and held it above her head with pride.

"Me and the J-man will abolish some of his built-up sin!" she said proudly. I raised one brow and she grinned.

"Power of love and forgiveness, that shit is out of this world," Maria promised.

For some reason, I didn't doubt her.

Last edited: Aug 14, 2019

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Stewart92

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Threadmarks 18: Tracks of Life

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Stewart92

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 15, 2019

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#653

Maria's manner changed when she began to read passages from the large book. She was clear and her voice was soft like summer rain. I tried to focus on what she was doing but it was like the words she began to read were... soothing. She sat kneeling before the staring ghost.

I didn't know the Bible or much about the actual tales of Jesus beyond what I absorbed via osmosis of movies, media, and such. Maria's passage spoke of kindness and the power of honesty. When she read them, there was no sense of forced pleasure or boredom.

Maria enjoyed the Bible.

It was as she spoke her body began to give out a feeling of peace.

Ally Skill activated: Rites of the Good Word: Effects(based on rough incoming data) Demonslayer888 infuses words of faith with her faith and belief in what she says. Causes all who are able to hear it feel relaxed and at peace. The effect is resisted if listening denies words or sees them in a negative light. Skill roughly... level 2.

Unlike my holy aura, Watari seemed to be basking in Maria's glow. He inhaled and looked around the office as if just remembering something.

"Dad used to let me play in the corner with his books..." he mumbled. His chain slackened enough that it was no longer tugging at the plate connected to Watari's chest.

"I wanted this office because it always made me feel safe." he went on. We no longer seemed to exist in his eyes. He was drawn to a corner and sat down.

"It was too bad that I figured out... my pa made the feeling happen. Not the room... My Pa kept me... safe," he said, drifting off in the corner as he hugged his knees.

The last words sounded... hollow. Empty.

"Then he left me all alone. Then the room felt bad. Make enough money and he'll come back... just need money," he vanished and the sound of chains rattled once before they too went quiet. Maria finished her verse. It was a tale of rest and weariness that made my own soul ache. Maria closed her Bible, made sure to securely put it away and closed the bag as if to hide it from the world.

"Thank fucking Christ on a bike. My legs were getting sore," she stood slowly up. I handed her a Purity Stone and she marvelled at it, turning it over.

"It's so damn pretty," she held it. I was feeling ready to impress so I plucked it and made it into a Campfire stone, putting it on the nearby destroyed desk.

"Good job! You should feel better in the light," I promised. Maria bent down and her cheeks warmed in the pleasant heat.

"That is so cool! Is it magic?" she asked and I sat down with a nod.

"As best as I can figure. Could be some super-atom compression into a shape of a stone that removes my concept of dirt to another dimension while trading it for thermal energy for heat..." I mused. Maria looked at me like I had done something mildly foul.

"Do you have to ruin a perfectly fucking good reason to say the word 'magic'?" she complained.

Nothing so complex. Energy, the magic particle, is a rather easily charge substance that can become most common or uncommon elements. It is also transmutable into forms of energy with the right know-how and about 10 years experience in a chosen field. System does the hard math part and lets Russel neatly skip that.

"And the dirt removal?" I said curiously.

System dumps it into a hidden inventory space where it is used as potential material for future skills or spells.

"You're using me as a magical recycle can?" I grinned, amused by the idea. Maria was watching us in silence. I guess she was still getting used to our back and forth talks.

System supports taking care of one's world. System believes in trees. As an avatar of System, you must recycle or feel crushing disappointment from the System.

"Only demons or fools litter," Maria agreed.

I shook my head in amusement as the room got another clean over and Maria looked much perked up from the Campfire stone.

Campfire Stone has reached level 2! Increased range!

The idea of my next question about King and how he worked reminded I hadn't introduced Maria to him yet.

"Hey, wanna meet my summoned companion? He's awesome," I said and Maria's eyes lit up.

"You subclassed into a summoner?!" she said in awe. I proudly summoned King in a poof of smoke.

The ant titled his massive had and Maria gave off a battle cry and threw a cloud of glinting salt over King. The ant looked very confused so he did want he knew best. He gathered the salt into a pile and returned it as best he could, tidying the room up. Maria had backed off and was holding her Bible.

"Worry not, I've used this book to remove many flies and spiders who did not stay in their webs. This foe will be my greatest challenge yet!" she said confidently but her hands were shaking.

"You used your holy manuscript to... swat insects?" I repeated with a hint of disbelief. Maria went pink.

"I... this is your giant mutant albino glowing ant? Do you have anything else to suddenly show me today that might make me want to run fucking screaming?" she asked pointedly.

I suddenly remembered my tentacle.

"Nope. I'm completely normal now," I said maybe a bit too quickly. Maria narrowed her eyes.

"Jesus feels sad when you lie," she accused. I winced and rubbed my head.

"I can copy some abilities of the foes I defeated. Sometimes they can be weird," I said after a moment. Maria thought about it then she hesitantly walked over to the waiting King.

"I am Maria Bean Mercy, I... apologise for salting you, sir ant," she bowed slightly. King just patted her head with a feeler and Maria tried not to twitch.

"Your middle name is Bean?" I asked, immensely amused.

"Tell anyone and I'll introduce you to God fucking personally."

I zipped my lips.

"Violence isn't very Christian," I reminded after a few seconds.

"We had these things called 'Crusades'. I should tell you about them one day," Maria hummed.

The portal was where I left it. Walking back to the train station was quiet and relaxing. Maria didn't find the need to fill every moment with words. I think her time in a church helped her appreciate the quiet moments.

While I could be grinding... I decided I should slow down and make sure I was taking time to relax where I could. My life was going to be very hectic in the coming days. Battle's, reapers, hollows, other unknowns... I'd have time to level. These were the moments I had to learn to enjoy.

Maria's reaction to the portal was much tamer. Since she was in the party, she had been allowed to see the portal.

"It's a little ominous, with all the fucking red and black," she pointed out. I gave her a long look and wiggled my fingers at the side. The portal made honking noises as it doubled over in jerking motions.

"It's ticklish. How can you be afraid of something that's ticklish?" I grinned.

System swears her warning of portal disruption and fatal consequences were just ignored...

I snapped my fingers back.

"Nope, must have been that other Gamer you help all day!" I tried.

Ah yes, the one with an actual wisdom stat so I could program in common sense? System loves that one. Shame he doesn't exist. Now ready yourself and enter the Zone.

I turned the chamber to make sure no one had followed us. The small opening was empty but I knew Bleach had some powerful stealthy people.

Or bullshit ones like Aizen who just told you he wasn't there and you were going to believe him.

"So, as I said before. No idea what we'll see or find but if it ends up being too much of a disadvantage, we'll back off and find another zone," I assured her. Maria thumped me hard on the shoulder.

"Have some faith in our team. J-man and Lady Sys won't let their star followers down," she promised.

"Did you just tell me to have faith-" I began but she began to pull me towards the portal with excitement. It swallowed us with a cheerful suction noise and we were gently sliding down a warm path so dark I couldn't see my hands in front of my face.

Entering Malice Zone: Midnight Train Graveyard! Please do not die, Russel and Demonslayer888!

Where we landed didn't exactly have much more light but another red moon hung above in the dark sky.

The dark...

I sat up as Maria went to peek over the edge of the floating island we were on. I didn't bother looking around or taking anything in. I just ran and spun her away. Her wide eyes met my own which felt pretty wild.

"Don't... look down there," I said softly. She gently peeled my grip off her arm and looked back.

"Is it bad?" she frowned.

"Dark things live down there and looking at them really messes with your head," I explained. Maria held her rosary with both hands.

"Russel, I'll need to look down eventually, do you see where we are? This is really fucking weird and I might be panicking just a little," she said ever so calmly. Having Maria away from the edge did finally let me see where the 'safe zone' entrance was.

I had been right about the floating island thing. For some distance, there were islands floating by themselves, most have walls or some building hiding what was on them but the bridges between them were railroad tracks. Rusty broken paths that looked like they sooner break than hold any weight.

As I watched, there was a ringing noise in the far distance and the islands began to turn like gears in a machine, making their railroad bridges connected to different islands or to nowhere at all.

Each island was draped in shadows that made features hard to make out from the safe island. I looked behind and a stone tunnel housed the portal snuggly.

Maria was looking at a platform with wheels and a giant seesaw lever on top. In the middle was a white glowing crystal. I don't think it was a skill gem but I checked it out anyway with Observe.

Powersource of Dream. Malice Key. Rating: Not applicable: A crystal that can activate dead or depleted machines in the Malice Zone. Seems to be filled with positive energy.

"Oh boy, I think the Malice Zone just through a gimmicky puzzle at us. Most likely have to guide and time the cart right to move into these buildings to power something until we get to the last island," I frowned. Maria blinked before she stepped on it, grabbed it with both hands and twisted. It squeaked as she unplugged the crystal like a lightbulb.

"There! Now we can leave the fucking awkward cart behind!" she grinned and handed me the crystal. I stared.

"Is that allowed?" I asked no one in particular. Without the cart, the timing of the bridges just became... really easy.

I put it in my inventory and shrugged.

"It's broken, exploit the hell out of it," I decided. We took the next bridge that came to the island and ran across. The first building looked like a watermill oddly enough. It had three floors to it and the wheel on the outside was made of bent railroad tracks that were too rusty to move, let alone turn if there was any water.

I made sure to tug on my cape and Maria nodded in appreciation.

"Dashing," she said before her eyes flicked down and her body went ramrod stiff on the bridge barely big enough for two people. I urged her own before she collapsed, mumbling a prayer under her breath.

"Maria... they won't come near. Just focus on me," I instructed, watching for foes. King was nearby and he seemed to be investigating the double doors that looked shut from the inside. Most of the windows had been smashed and boarded up.

Maria did slowly look up at me.

"I saw darkness and it smiled at me," she said hoarsely. I frowned, trying my best to think of something comforting when Maria stood up, shaking and pointed over the edge, her eyes straight ahead.

"Fuck you. Fuck you and fuck you. Stay out of my... soul. It's spoken for!" she yelled and the sound echoed loudly.

She turned stiffly and marched back to me, eyes still a little wild.

"I saw the bad. Now can you show me some good about this place?" she requested. I silently pushed on the door and it didn't move an inch. I really didn't want to climb through a boarded-up broken window and the small semi-circle piece of land didn't extend around the building. King was not going to be digging under and risk collapsing the island...

I turned on Acid Cloak and touched the door near the middle. I began to smell a strong burning metal scent and the point in between the doors bubbled and began to fall off in wet chunks as the acid ate through.

"That's cleaning, acid, holy, fire, cleaning ant... you really like sterilising things! Are you a germaphobe?" Maria asked with interest.

"No, I just blew up giant viruses in a hell hospital. The rewards kinda match," I explained as the wood board holding the door shut fell away. I cut my cloak and pushed the door open. Inside was a large single room with ladders, shipping containers, and a lot broke machine parts.

I threw in a Purity Stone and it lit up enough for me to see that trains in the state of being built had been crudely torn apart. Scraps in barrels while some wheels were hung like decoration.

"I've walked into enough confession booths to know a trap where I see it," Maria let her beads uncoil and they gain a slight blue glow. I agreed entirely... I think.

I took a step in and considered some options. I sent a few more Purity Stones into lit up obvious dark corners. The last stone bounced between two containers and something moved, making scratching noises as it vanished.

Purity Stone has reached level 3! Decrease cost by 1!

"Right, tactics. I know you think I need you as a tank despite the fact you can't tank or draw attention... so let me go first because my fire, teleport, and such might be better at that. Anything tries to ambush me, whip them down or give me a heads up," I said. Maria looked let down not to be front lining with a bloody fist but nodded.

"That said, anything tries to come for you? Smite it," I grinned.

This got me an eager smile in return.

I equip my new mace and shield. I looked like a junkyard knight but I focused on my shield, the mace, and my own t-shirt. I went from an amusing sight to something more worth noticing. My upper half was just a combined aura of fire that the three items connected and blurred together.

I heard Maria's low whistle. I could almost sense she was within range of my fire but she wasn't even feeling the heat.

Pyro Infusion has reached level 2! Increased damage.

I walked in slowly and to the side slightly. I kept a metal walkway above me for cover but it was so damn dark up there. I was beginning to think we had some sort of ambush creature when something emerged from the many dark spaces.

I almost wanted to say goblin but...

It was barely up to my knees, dark brown, and hairy patches. Gleaming animalistic red eyes glared at me as it licked needle teeth. It wore metal plates but in a way that was more decorative than for any protection.

I Observed it as it tried to show off its 'might' by casually walking sideways, eyeing me like lunch.

Progress Destroyer Gremlin. Monster. G-2: A tiny creature that is attracted to projects and machines with the intent to tear them down or damage them. The metal is collected for prizes and the despair of the project workers is used as food.

"You wouldn't know Gizmo by any chance, huge fan-" I began and the thing went for my legs. It was fast, moving more like an animal on all four limbs than running.

It got about 10 feet away and Maria's beads lashed out, flying past me to strike the creature. There was a crunching noise and the Gremlin stumbled back as one of its arms dangled uselessly.

"More from above!" she warned me. I rushed forward, swinging my new mace with energy. The Gremlin exploded in a splatter of green blood and hair. I was so glad I had a Purity Stone in my pocket. I didn't let myself focus on the messy details before I turned to catch a Gremlin with my shield. It shrieked as it burned and I slammed it to the ground where it melted.

Oh lovely, these things were pretty flammable too! I was ready to jump for the last one but Maria had it tied up and she swung her body. The Gremlin was lifted off the ground with a growl.

"Back to the shadows with you, vile thing!" she yelled and the Gremlin impacted the wall at a speed much faster than a normal swing would have caused.

I winced as the smear left behind.

I turned slowly to make sure there wasn't anymore and something hit me as it landed behind me. I rolled hard as another Gremlin lifted his pipe in a war cry.. This Gremlin was no short stack.

Gremlin Brute. Monster. G-3. A gremlin too stupid to work machines or destory them. Used as a hard labourer by the others.

"Russel!" Maria called but I was already picking myself up as the stupid Gremlin came after me again but it stopped, legs moving in the air. King twitched his feelers as he held the confused monster easily.

I grinned at my ant.

"King... take out the trash," I commanded. King's mandibles snapped and there was a crushing sound of bone.

The pipe fell to the ground and the Gremlin followed, dead.

After a few seconds, nothing else jumped out. Combat must have been over because System gave me the rewards for the little skirmish.

3x Gremlin defeated! 9 EXP!

1X Gremlin Brute Defeated! 4 EXP!

You have reached level 3! All stats increased by 1! 3 Stat Points gained for spending!

Maria is at estimated... 45% full on EXP progress.

I looked down as the Gremlin Brute dropped a Red Gem. I went over and petted King who was watching as the Gremlin melted from his aura.

"Awesome job! You alright?" I called to Maria who was examining the remains of the Gremlins.

She nodded and beckoned me over.

"I'm usually a bit attuned to people. I think it's related to my power but people sometimes give off a feel. Like what I told you about ghosts and Hollows. Animals too if I spend time around them. When someone dies, they lose that feeling from their body but these things are... empty. They move like they're closer to dolls than living creatures. I feel nothing from them," she frowned. I could see that.

"Everything here is closer to an imitation or a recreation using energy than anything 'real'. You might meet really strong echoes that hold more life but I think its just how the System helps me grow. Creating real monsters would be an issue. These things wouldn't work outside the Malice Zone so its a safety measure really," I pondered.

"But I sensed something from the Darkness," Maria countered, face unsure. I also fell short there.

I asked the System.

The Beings in the Beyond are not echoes or conceptual energy. They are... if the System is a star, they would be the dark space. They aren't evil or even malicious. I know a few that are chatty and they are good friends but it takes time to... adapt to them. They delight in the events we cause with Users and enjoy watching. I think they are bored Beings. They do mean you no harm but best not to touch or look at them.

"So really really big beings that are watching me for amusement because space got boring. Kinda melts your brain if you look at them," I summed up as I opened my status menu.

True name: Russel Rivers

Given name:

Nickname:

Title: The Gamer

EXP:0/500

HP: 60/60

ENE: 40

SP: 45

Physical: 12

Spiritual: 9

Energy: 8

Mental: 8

Points: 4

I put a point into Spiritual making it 10 and another two points into Energy and brought Mental up by 1.

Next level, Mental would hit 10 by itself if I didn't get a point beforehand. New pop-ups were added to the waiting pile.

"Russel! I got more screens!" Maria said in awe.

"Really? Did you get chain skill or maybe a throwing skill?" I asked distractedly.

"It's a skill called 'Holy Cry'! It says by invoking holy wrath in the form of words when I damage an enemy, I can cause nearby foes who see it to piss themselves and hesitate and want to target someone else!" she said excitedly.

I looked at her for a long time.

"...You are the apple of Jesus' eye," I said dryly. I turned to my own waiting windows.

Spiritualism has reached 10! Please choose a path to develop long.

Path of Soul Destruction: Learn to focus and reduce the cost of spirit arts, learn harder arts faster and grasp destroying souls much easier.

Path of Steel Soul: Gather your energy to reduce damage from all spirit attacks. Able to use Soul Points as armour. Able to learn certain arts easier.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 19: Russel the Tank

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Stewart92

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 17, 2019

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#712

"Steel soul! Steel Soul!" I said in an almost panicked frenzy, jabbing at the selection. Maria was giving me an odd look.

Steel Soul Selected! All Damage from Spiritual beings is reduced! Soul Points now act as a Spiritual Barrier!

I felt my spirit energy tightened as if grains of sand were being pulled together in a weaved pattern over my skin. It settled like a warm mesh over my body. Secure and firm, I felt more protected than I ever thought I could be.

"Your energy just... fucking knitted together like a sweater!" Maria said in a gasp. I gave her a frown.

"Don't call my cool spirit armour a 'sweater'," I requested but she grinned.

"If this weirdo place didn't fucking prove your weird powers... your spirit sweater just did. I can't believe you level up and get new powers! That's bullshit and I got powers too! I'm the heroine Priestess of the Dawn!" she was rambling now. Her face was excited and a little sweaty if she was having trouble accepting it all so quickly.

I bent down to pick up the Red Gem and handed it to her. She took it gently, admiring the tiny round gem that had a few jagged-edges sticking out like a snowflake.

"It's so beautiful," she said quietly and I looked at the gem. I hadn't given it an in-depth look before. The small crystal had layers of faceted ridges that twisted the light flowing through it.

In the centre was the tiniest core of the deepest crimson.

"Where do they come from? Are they monster parts?" Maria asked and I looked around at the fading gremlin corpses.

"I think they're really strong echoes left behind in an area by people and the circumstances that happen here. Sometimes they get changed by the monsters holding them but I don't know exactly," I admitted. Maria gave an inaudible prayer for a few seconds.

I barely caught the last part.

"-you for the gift. I'll use it to help people," she said and opened her eyes. She squeezed and the gem broke. She suddenly grasped her head in pain, moaning in surprise she closed her eyes before it seemed to abruptly stop.

"You didn't say it would hurt," she said with an exhale.

"Just wait until you try to upgrade them," I said calmly. Maria shot me a dirty look but she was reading something I couldn't see.

"The System said the skill is called 'Dark Ages'. It's a skill that does faith damage to machines and artificial monster creations," she said in puzzlement. I raised a brow at the name.

"It's range and energy cost is estimated at 'very low'," Maria concluded.

"The System said the abilities are based on our experiences and set path. You aren't great with tech or prefer not to use it," I hazarded a guess.

"You have acid and a cleaning ant... what kind of path must you have been on for that?!" Maria complained.

"I'm a Gamer. At level 1... I'm a freshly made Zanpakuto! Basic but unlimited," I grinned. Maria turned and splayed her hand. A haze of wavy light surged out and hit the wall with no visible effect.

"I just... cast magic!" she said slowly then she began to laugh.

"The Priestess of Dawn's conquest begins today!" she said loudly. I was smiling until I thought about what she said.

"Conquest?" I echoed. Maria hummed.

"I went Chaotic Evil. DnD is about playing something you aren't right? So I was going to topple the current religious Gods and state my kingdom of light," she explained with no shame.

"First off... that's Lawful Evil. Second, I think we should move on and see what else you get before you decide to make your palace?" I suggested. Maria pointed to the far door.

"I don't think your acid is gonna eat through that," she offered. I turned to see a series of interlock metal bars that looked reinforced by heavy-duty bolts.

"Let me figure that out once I sort through my notifications. I just wanted to see if the gems worked without a problem first," I explained. Maria walked off to talk to King who was now cleaning the metal walls and chirping to himself.

Chuckling, I looked to the next box.

Energy has reached 10! Please choose a path for your growth to focus on.

The Path of Endless: Increase Recharge rate of Energy and increases the ability to overcharge skills.

The Path of Unchainable: Makes your energy potent and hard to touch by magical curses, control, or sealing.

Hmm, situation but life saving or constant and helpful? One would help me shut down some abilities that may kill me but more energy would make me effective against almost all foes.

Both would be easy to recreate through skill gems and grinding skills but I did need to make a choice. I could have 100 ENE regen a minute if it was double or even 75 if it was just a 25% increase.

But that protection against abilities to go 'lol no' to my energy was appealing as well. It was like if a Quincy tried to take away a Bankai from me and I just laughed.

In the end, while regen was usually king. Bleach had too many bullshit people running around for me to easily ignore the protection.

I took the path of the unchainable.

I tensed as my Energy surged around me. It pulsed white and was briefly visible like a surging wave. It barely was content to be contained by my own body now but I controlled it.

I felt like if it could, my aura would roar. It died down a moment later and Maria was giving me a wide-eyed look.

"Didn't mean to scare you," I said easily and she swallowed before shrugging.

"Just startled me was all," she denied my words but avoided my eyes for a moment.

"Your energy... it looked like-" she hesitated then went laughed to herself.

"Like a fucking angry bear for a moment," she said, nervously joking. I thought back to the various energy auras in Bleach. They did tend to be a bit dramatic. Kenpachi being the obvious example.

"I'm a regular Pooh Bear," I grinned and Maria rolled her eyes.

"If you call me Piglet, I'll hit you," she warned. I turned back to my boxes but couldn't help myself.

"More like Rabbit with that temper," I muttered.

Well done! You have gained the shield skill!

Shield Skill. Passive. Lv 1: Increases knowledge and ease of handing all shields!

Well done! You have learned the skill: Shield Smash!

Shield Smash. Active. Physical. Lv 1: Slammed your shield into a foe and crush them into the ground. Requires a shield. Cost 2 Energy.

One-Handed Blunt skill has reached level 4! Increased skill of handling weapon.

Fire Affinity has reached level 4! Increased control over fire.

Well done! You have learned the skill: Leadership!

Leadership: Passive. Mental. Lv 1: Increase the effects of commands and orders given to those under your command. Allows you a better sense of your forces at higher levels. No effect on those considered equal or unrespecting of your command.

Boy, I did love me some skills.

The leadership skill most likely came from me commanding King in battle so that was a nice bonus. Shame that I kinda saw most people and such as equals. The annoyance of not having a massive ego... darn. I'm sure once it levelled, its paths would let me choose to affect friendlies for a reduced effect or something close to it.

I walked to the far door and saw the tracks the rail cart should have travelled if we had chosen to take it with us.

I didn't see a place to slot the crystal in or anything but as I neared, a thin beam of light shot out from the door that was about shoulder level. It wasn't hot but the light wasn't... quite normal. It was thicker than it should have been.

I got a real Ark of the Covenant feeling and I tried holding the gem in the light but while it glowed, my hand was too unsteady for it to focus.

"We might need that cart..." I mumbled but King walked over, gently took the gem and held it up. His body the perfection of stillness. The gem gathered light and began humming.

"I feel like having King is like cheating on so many levels," I mused. The crystal hit a pitch I couldn't hear and the door began to unlock due to the sound.

Ah... it was a sound lock? That was really cool and odd for a run-down place.

"It's like a password," Maria said as the door ground itself open. I gave her a look.

"Like in the story of Ali Baba? Open Sesame?" she prodded before she blushed.

"I mean in noise we couldn't say but its the same right?" she mumbled. I thought about it. Password...

If this was based on the train station that was abandoned... why would there be doors needing passwords? Most passwords were digital these days...

Or maybe it was digital? 1s and 0s turned to sound? I eyed the door again and just maybe the odd scratches and bolts looked uniform and gridlike... I was just guessing now but I had to remember that Malice Zones were based on ambient suffering. There was a root cause here... even I didn't understand it yet.

"And I bet if we tried to be quiet, that crystal humming would have brought the Gremlins to us trying to destroy the crystal or the cart," I pointed out.

The twin doors opened as the bell in the distance rang again. The island shuddered and we were treated to the view outside rotating to a new island.

Maria had her note pad out and held it out.

"I drew this while you were studying the cart," she said and showed me a rough diamond shape made up nine circles inside. Maria had marked circle at the bottom outside the diamond as 'way home' and another island to the far north with '?'.

"We're on the first island in the diamond. So it rotates between the next two and then we have choices of two more islands depending where we go but it all ends in the same place," she summed up.

"I have a feeling one or two would be traps or dead ends. This is some railroad maze," I replied, scratching at my chin. Maria looked pleased.

"According to the DM books I found. Good Dungeon makers make dead ends rewarding so we may want to seek these out!" she beamed. I raised a brow.

"And we have a good Dungeon Master?" I responded with humour.

Maria was answered for.

While the circumstance of the Malice is out of System control, the rewards are within control. The Negativity of destroying monsters is used to forge them. As well as random ones found. The Malice is basically a useful resource if refined and cleansed for the human palate.

"Oh good, we're shoving human suffering into our heads for magic missile," I replied dryly.

No pain, no gain.

The building ahead, a break room, held four more Gremlins. They were all of the small variety that had turned tables into walls and danging cables into vines. Two of them launched themselves at me which I just waited until they were in the air and turned on the fire.

I didn't think that much through when they hit my shield and chest, burning and smearing greasy flesh down my front.

I was already getting ready to summon endless amounts of Purity Stones once the last two were killed. Maria's rosary hit one as she cursed them to hell.

The Gremlins looked at her as if she were a madwoman before turning to me, deciding fire was better than being cursed at.

Maria's new skills were interesting but no amount of cursing would get me to tackle a man on fire. Must be one of those 'makes sense in your own head' when it affects you.

I tried shield bash and my boiler door glowed slightly, almost drawn to the ground at high speeds as the Gremlin below exploded into a green mist.

The last one died to Maria's chain, the end of the beads hurtling it into the wall.

"Those things do not weigh much," Maria said as she eyed her handy work. I was assuming she was just that strong but not I was thinking about it... It wasn't much effort to slammed them.

"Must be more a 'danger in a swarm' kind of foe. We should enjoy it because based on my last Malice Zone, we're about to see what feeds on these guys soon enough," I looked around as the notifications told us we had gained 12 EXP for the battle as well as progress towards the Gremlin Bestiary.

I now had 12/500. Maria was sporting a healthy 73% now. We looked around the room as King tidied up the gore. He seemed to enjoy being the cleanup guy more than a fighter. Most likely due to the nature of the evolution I chose.

The break room had mostly tables, a trashed salad bar and a vending machine. Maria was searching her pockets for change as she eyed the oddly powered machine.

Why hadn't the Gremlins dismantled it?

Observe said it was just a normal vending machine with out of date snacks but still.

I suggested breaking it to avoid issues but Maria gave me a sour look and muttered something about vandalism. She inserted the change and the machine rumbled. Something clunked into the dispensing slot and Maria bent down to look. She stood up with a Yellow gem.

A rank-3 yellow gem...

"Is this the part where you quote the good book about not breaking vending machines and thus get rewarded?" I asked blankly. Maria smirked.

"And thus Saint Venda Masheen did spread the message of peace and kindness," she said in her best priestly voice. The vending machine behind her went dark and silent. It's purpose now seemingly gone.

She handed me the gem.

"No loot mechanic crap. You get one, I get one. If its a colour you think you can live without or we can't use them because of goblins or some shit, we wait until we get the fuck out and divide up the remaining," she said and then bit her lip.

"I am a bit worried if we bring people in... if we do that they might get obsessed or we might start fighting over the gems. Is that a bad thought?" she asked quietly. I shook my head.

"That's why we make sure people are decent human beings before we trust them," I said, showing her I was agreeing with her.

"Good people start just fine but power can be corruptive. I've even been fucking worried that these thoughts are my greed showing like 'let's not invite people so there's more for me'," she eyed the yellow gem.

"Papa told me temptation wasn't the devil. It would be my own voice in my head," she closed my hand over the gem.

"Russel, if I start becoming addicted or too eager. Don't invite me back. These places are too dangerous to have someone that has anything but their friends well being on their mind," she said then looked shocked.

"N-not that we are fucking friends! I mean, I would love to be for Christ sake but not if you have objections which I can get! I mean I am just a mess and well my cursing and-" she clamped her mouth shut.

"Wanna go kill... some Gremlins or something stupid?" she asked in a quiet voice. I was staring at her with a slow smile spreading across my face.

"Only if I can invite my friend," I said seriously. Maria rolled her eyes but gave a small smile.

"You're a fucking nerd," she said, walking past me to look elsewhere.

I held my yellow gem.

"No you," I called and she looked back.

"Read the group name, I'm clearly the Nun in this duo unless King has been to Sunday school?" she teased. The ant looked up at his name but went back to flipping tables over and removing long-forgotten Malice gum from the undersides.

I focused on my shield and decided to test one of the functions of yellow gems.

"Upgrade!" I said and crushed the gem. My shield glowed before it morphed slowly. The edges became sharped and more uniformed. The bumpy front flattened but the material became firm. One corner looked torn off but as the glow died down and I held a much firm handle...

I now had a very beaten up, and damaged riot shield that actually covered my down to the knees.

"Oh yes..." I said in delight. The perk of yellow gems above all else so far? No head-splitting pain. Yellow gems were cool like that.

Worn Riot Shield. Shield. G-3: A riot shield made with common materials. It has been through more skirmishes than people. It carries its scars well.

I had never been a 'tank' person in my gaming career. I was always the assassin or the mage. But feeling my Energy boiling with the challenge, my Spiritual energy contained tightly to form a second unseen skin, having the secure weigh of a shield, and my vitality making me on a constant runner's high?

I do believe I have had what one would call...

A revelation.

Being a tank felt damn good.

I just had to remind myself that even the shy and weakness Reaper could end me and I wouldn't rank as a threat to anything but normal people and midget Gremlins.

Despite my enjoyment, I still really disliked muscle head players acting like hotshit because they can take a few hits.

I had to be better. I looked over at King and Maria.

I had to be a better Tank for them.

THERE IS NO EPIC LOOT HERE, ONLY Puns (DUNGEON) The One Ring(DC/SI/Multi-cross/Quest)/Thread 2 of TOR. Digicrest of Escalation(Worm/Digimon) Spirt of the Gamer(Bleach/Gamer), Aces and Jokers (OC hobo ends up in Worm)

Discord link to my general story discord. Don't be quiet or shy!

Spoiler: My is my . If you prefer to leave me a small tip, here's a .

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Threadmarks 20: As quiet as a...

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Stewart92

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Ain't enough wine in this cup

Amicus

Aug 17, 2019

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#753

Instead of heading to the next row of the diamond, we waited for the island to turn and explored the other room we could have taken. It was an entrance like space complete with directions that made no sense over a broken signboard for workers to clock in.

Take the left to Defunct Cavern! Right to the Rest Hall Undone! Straight ahead for Pointless Inwards.

From the left and right, we got two Gremlin Brutes rushing towards us. I tested my much easier to handle shield. These used pipes and bricks as weapons which made fighting them a little hard than the normal Gremlins. One duck to my left and tried to get Maria. King was a wall that drew attention long enough for Maria to strike the monster.

King grappled and the thing smashed his brick into King, crushing one of his feelers. At the sight, I became pissed and clubbed the brute before me. His face burned before I hit it with another Shield Smash.

I grabbed the fallen brick and used Discard. I was worried the item might not work due to being bigger than my hand but a section broke off and shot into the back of the remaining Gremlin. Maria pulled the creature with a yank of its foot with her chain giving King a chance to lean down and snapped his mandibles over the exposed neck.

The fight ended with the audible crack.

I rushed over and gingerly examined King. He didn't seem too bad but his sense of direction was heavily favoured to his right with his undamaged feeler.

"Ah buddy, I'm sorry. Here let me resummon you," I said and dispersed King and brought him back in another poof of smoke. King's feeler was still... broken but it didn't look as bad.

I grimaced. I was hoping for a cheap instant heal for King if he ever got hurt but it looked like it was more like a small restore instead. Maria bent down and tore a bit of her sleeve. She gently wrapped it around the feeler to hold it up.

The black material was obviously against the white body but King seemed to appreciate it as his feeler moved with more confidence. He would heal overtime but having medical supplies would help.

"We need a healing ability," I said causing Maria to pause.

"I just got amateur first aid?" she offered and that was a step in the right direction but I checked over the corpses. I was hoping for a green gem but there wasn't anything there.

We didn't have a heal and I could not taunt. Well, I didn't need a gem for that. I just had to smack talk some monsters and do it normally.

"Let's search and see if we get lucky," I suggested as I checked the notifications.

Gremlin Brutes defeated! 8 exp!

Shield skill has reached level 2! Shield mass easier to lift.

Shield Smash has reached level 2! Increased Damage.

I turned over the falling clock in-board and Maria searched the desk. I got gibberish names and a bunch of pins that I pocketed for Discard if needed.

"I'm sorry, Russ. The only thing in the desk was this," she held out her hand.

In it was a smooth perfect pebble. I took it without a word and put in with my collection, trying not to cackle.

"It's better than nothing," I said encouragingly.

I got another 3 EXP as King cleaned up the bodies. Handy fella! Maria opened her mouth and she swayed before glowing.

"I levelled up! It says I'm level 2!" she said excitedly. A window opened to show me the results.

Maria Mercy has levelled up! Due to status as not a user. Growth is automatic to strengths and actions most used during the level.

Stats detected for Party Member for level.

Dexterity. Faith. Intelligence.

All stats boosted by basic increment. Which stat would the extra point be allocated?

Dex for all that chain flinging she was doing I guessed. Her faith was shown pretty clearly with her praying with the ghost, and her int must have been clear with all her studying.

"Any idea what the results of those stats would give her?" I asked before Maria could commit to a choice.

Dex would give her advance movement, reaction times, and handing of her weapons. Faith would deepen her connection to the world around her and increased her abilities with innate abilities. Int would increase her ability to learn certain concepts and able to handle Gem induction better.

I looked at Maria, whose choice this ultimately was.

"If I was building a character but didn't know what spells or skills I'd get I would have to work on my build with what I have..." she bit her lip.

"I have to dedicate to a path because multiclassing is a risk that not every class should take and I can't risk becoming too diverse I become weak," she mused.

"I'm good with my chain, I fucking like my chain. I also like my faith so if they could work together I'd be happy... I can grind my chain skill with work but Faith might be tricker so I'll choose faith for now but I'm counting on you Russ you keep me safe from Gremlin bites," she grinned.

Faith increased.

Maria closed her eyes as the glow reached a new peak then died down. She flexed her fingers and looked around, her eyes pondering but not distant.

"I feel... different but not too much," she finally said. She sighed with relief and I suddenly understood she had been really nervous about this aspect of my power.

In the same vein, I was glad I didn't get to control her growth. It would have felt... creepy.

"Do we go on or go back to get supplies?" I asked her. Maria looked set as she answered.

"On. If the worse we have is a healing feeler than I think we're doing good!" she said confidently. I sighed.

"And thus we were jinxed," I said to myself.

Maria's powers of faith must have improved because her jinxing must have reached God who decided to put this creature before us in the next island.

It was a hulking two-legged machine with bent pipes that billow dark smoke. The 'head' was a tiny carriage with a glowing red core. The scrapped metal making up its form stretched out into a spiked ball in some cannon on one arm and a flickering flame on the other.

It paced back and forward over the crushed Gremlins who had tried to dismantle it.

"I believe that thing is a health hazard," Maria state quietly. I agreed but focused on it.

Scrap Mech. Monster. G-3. 'The ALPHA': A mechanical foe that uses crushing force and fire to purge foes. More often than not kills allies in the attempt.

Observe has reached level 5! Please choose a passive for this skill to gain!

The art of recall: Anything Observed is preserved in perfect memory.

The art of Detection: Observe pierces weak stealth barriers and grants a passive boost to dark vision.

Perfect recall or improve stealth detect and vision in the dark. While perfect memory was neat stealth boosting for routes or info gathering skill if I could sneak... I was a giant flaming knight in the making. I took Detection.

When I selected it, my vision shifted ever so slightly. The corners of the room that were in the pure dark were now... just barely visible with the flickering light of the mech's flamethrower.

"Alright, this machine is gonna be handled by me drawing its attention and you blasting to the dark ages with... uh your Dark Age spell," I said and Maria looked determined.

"Using Smart Phones and tablets rots your soul!" she agreed, winking to show she was mostly jesting.

I ran and shouted.

"Oi! You ugly rust bucket! You give us Rustys a bad name!" I hollered and banged my mace on the shield. It turned and the red-eye lit up.

"Target aqu-aqu-acquired. Activating... ERROR: Purge all 3825 errors. 8.15 TO EAST. Redirected. Train in 15 feet will be recycled." it groaned and sparks flew from the red eyes as it spoke.

The spiked ball shot forward towards me in a speed I don't think I would have been able to match if my shield wasn't already up. It impacted my shield and I was lifted off my feet and sent flying back into the wall, one of the spikes cracking the plastic glass slightly. If that had been the boiler door with the missing window...

I might have just been impaled.

"No taunt skill?" I said in a groan as I shot a bunch of Discard pebbles at it. Most only slightly chipped the metal but one cracked the eye in a direct hit.

You cannot taunt that which feels nothing.

A haze shimmered over the machine and a fountain of sparks exploded out as something inside overloaded.

"Error. Error. Fuel control now offline. Expelling flame." The robot's left arm exploded in a wave of fire, seeking out my shield form. Would my fire counter the machines or-

The air around my blistered and I Retrace as my skin was heated red.

I cursed as I got a horrid sunburn but the pillar of fire began to chase me as the robot turned. More hazes impacted it and the fire started to burn through holes and melting wires in the arm.

I fired more pebbles into the sparking mass and the machine's Spiked ball flew over my head, cracking the wall before one of the legs gave out.

The fire ended and the robot seemed to think to itself.

"Weapons offline. Movement hampered. Purpose... lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Title: Mr. Given name: Nishima. ALPHA sends bug report. Waiting."

I stared as the thing just went quiet for a long time.

"Mr Nishima. Please respond. Waiting. No answer. Mr Nishima please res- res- res-. Error. No response. ALPHA is alone. Alpha is alone. Alpha is aloo...ne."

The red-eye exploded as more internal parts shut down and the voice vanished into gibberish before going silent.

"Are... we supposed to feel bad for the things we kill? I thought they weren't real!" Maria said, covering her mouth. I slowly shook my head, wincing at my burned arms and neck. I looked like a lobster.

"Echoes, they're impressions left behind. They have feelings or what's left of them. Depending on what caused the disaster or malice... things can gain feelings because if the belief is to be true... everything has a soul. Everything can have Malice or an Echo," I said tiredly.

You have defeated Mech! You gain 20 EXP!

You have gained the skill 'Fire-resistant!

Fire Resistant. Physical. Passive. Lv 1: Reduce the effects of enemy fire or natural fire.

You have gained the skill 'Knockback resistant'!

Knockback resistant. Physical. Passive. Lv 1: Be able to ignore pushing attacks or force. Does not negate damage.

The mech dropped three gems from its smoking form. A green, a blue, and a violet. Maria and I stared at them.

"You get the first choice. Need me to explain what they do or can you remember?" I asked, still wincing as I spoke. Burns were the worse.

"I want blue or Violet. Since it goes me then you then me... I get two either way unless you really want them?" she said, petting King who had fled the fire on instinct.

I was about to answer when the exits and entrances gained a silver line. Portal shimmering into view with a pleasant hum.

Safe Room unlocked! Please sit down and recover.

I sighed and did just that as Alpha's body vanished.

"Honestly, you should use a green. With your set you might get something good," I argued but she shook her head.

"Just like you might get a defensive shield or damage nullification. You gotta stop fucking thinking of green as pure healing," she reminded.

I might have been but if I was honest with myself... I really wanted the blue gem. Blues were amazing. A silence took us over before Portal reshaped himself and shrank to become a fancy top hat. It scooped up the three gems and floated on the ground between us, inviting us to reach inside. There was no light inside so I couldn't see the gems.

"Pick from a hat?" Maria grinned. I matched her smile and invited her to go. She reached in and pulled the first gem out.

I think even Portal might have stared at the Violet Gem she now held.

"So this..." she said slowly. System appeared with an odd song to show us.

Red is to harm

Indigo is to sense and alarm

Blue is to create and build

Yellow is your desire filled.

White is open and free.

Black is still and your wish to be

Orange makes you up and down.

Violet causes changes and really goes to town.

Green is protection and cures ills.

Silver can be rare but pays the bills.

Gold is around here somewhere but System is done.

"Silver and Gold? Come on, you can't tease us like that," I argued.

Sensitive information. System assures you. Very dangerous.

I cocked an eyebrow.

"But I-"

Fine, System will tell you. Only because you look so sad. It breaks System's heart.

"She's enjoying this," Maria commented.

"I noticed..."

Gold is permanent changes that make you more. Silver is an instant level up or skill rank up for any colour or item. These are powerful items. They do not have ranks but simply are.

Oh. Those sounded hard to find.

"Well, nothing for it..." I said and pulled out the next gem. I held myself the green gem. Portal threw the blue one to Maria before slinking off to resume Portal form.

"Well, I hope its good!" Maria closed her eyes and squeezed. I was still a but down by my luck but... I decided maybe I got the better end of the deal when Maria began to shrink.

I watched as she shrank and shrank until a tiny little furry body stared up at me, whiskers twitching and ears round.

"What am I?" Maria's tiny form demanded.

"You're..." I trailed off, too shocked to speak.

Her beady pink eyes seem to read a screen. The cursing that followed me cringe.

"A CHURCH MOUSE? IS THAT FUCKING JOKE?!"


End file.
